


Something about Poppies

by l_ermite



Category: The Scarlet Pimpernel - All Media Types
Genre: ALRIGHT I MEANT FOR THIS TO BE SERIOUS, AU, Action, Awkwardness, But Imma gonna wing it, F/M, Future Fic, Genderbent!Percy, It's changed like ten times, Mostly shenanigans, OHKOSKMIGOSH, Okay so this started as a genderbent futuristic AU, Romance, Sci-Fi, Some angst, a few plot devices, like ALL THE AU, mentions of original, probs angst
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-09-27
Updated: 2016-12-15
Packaged: 2018-08-18 05:16:25
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 8
Words: 61,504
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8150356
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/l_ermite/pseuds/l_ermite
Summary: The year is 2157, and scientists have made a discovery. A great discovery. It revolutionizes science and the human race as we know it.Until this knowledge falls into the wrong hands, that is.War. War and bloodshed and tyranny.Will it even matter in the end?





	1. Preamble to War

**Author's Note:**

> This is kind of a backdrop because I'm really just going to jump into the action after this point. I might to some more backstory via flashbacks etc., but this is the basics of stuff.

_Dr. Alphonse Boor_

_24 January 2157_

_Re: Breakthrough_

_Personal entry. Voice-to-text activated._

_We've done it. We've really done it. This this is it. The world will never be the same._

 

Alphonse ran a hand through his hair, the euphoria of his breakthrough chasing away any of the fatigue he might have had from the past three sleepless nights. 

He still couldn't believe it. 

It was flawless. 

_Well,_ he corrected himself.  _It'll work in fourteen out of nineteen cases. Only a few genetic quirks..._

Alphonse stepped back from his computer screen, looking aimlessly around the lab that was more familiar to him than his own family room. The white walls softly illuminated by blue-white lights seemed to loom over him. 

"I need to test it," he breathed, collapsing into his chair and rubbing a hand over his face. The fatigue returned with a vengeance. He couldn't present it to the board until he had tested it. Given the nature of the serum and the laws against animal testing his only choices were volunteer testing or theoretical probability. 

Alphonse swore as he hit the table with his fist, making his coffee mug shake. He bit his fist, hating himself for forgetting. He had known this, he should have had a subject lined up to take the serum. 

Why couldn't he just take it himself?

He shook his head quickly at the thought. It must have been the sleep deprivation talking. It was not only irresponsible of him, but it created a bias in the data. He couldn't do that. He shouldn't do that. 

He looked at the formula floating across his monitor.

Naturally.

He did it. 

 

~* ~* ~* ~* {O} *~ *~ *~ *~

 

It started like a whisper. A secret available only to the very rich and the very powerful. Something new. Something... potent. 

There were people on the streets who couldn't die. 

They were stronger.

Faster.

Smarter.

And impervious to disease or physical injury. 

Cut off an arm and the body would heal itself. Stem cells would reproduce the limb within two months. 

It hadn't been tried with the head yet. No one was quite willing to take that risk. 

Most people would just show off. A new branch of the Olympic games had to be created, called the Super Games. 

Then someone got a hold of the formula. A punk college kid with a mountain of student loans. 

He sold it on the black market. 

Super powers were now in the grasp of those with the lowest of low morals. 

At first, it was a mild problem, not really a priority among local law enforcement. As bad as any drug epidemic, or less so because there was no risk of death. The process was painful, but no one had died from it yet. And it worked in 14 out of 19 cases. 

But then the selfishness arose. 

People used their enhanced abilities to gain popularity. They used it to gain power, dominion over others. 

Soon everyone who wasn't a super was a slave.

 

~* ~* ~* ~* {O} *~ *~ *~ *~

 

People are never content to be repressed. Sooner or later, someone will arise to lead a rebellion. 

That's exactly what happened. The people of Earth, if they couldn't escape to the Colonies on Mars, would rather stand and fight. The same scientists who had developed the serum- Alphonse and his fellow scientists-- developed an antiserum. Unfortunately, before it could be perfected, the public demanded it's release. Enraged civilians broke into the lab. They stole the formula. Higher-level university students with no idea what they were doing attempted to recreate the antiserum from Alphonse's formula. 

The result was chaos. 

The serum was the only biological weapon that could work on the supers. 

It stripped them of their abilities, sure, but the side-effect was death. 

Murder. 

Civilians were turned to murder by desperation and the desire for self-preservation. Or maybe it was a thirst for blood. 

It depends on your point of view. 

But there was something about the serum that only Alphonse yet knew. And it pierced his heart at every new report at every attack on supers. It was racism. Stereotyping. Not all supers were bad. Some were just trying to live their lives. It wasnt their fault. It was his.

Alphonse clung to his wife, burying his face against her as sobs racked his body. 

What had he done?


	2. Striking Home

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The beginning: where nothing is understood and we have everywhere to go.

The officer looked around, inspecting the area. From his seated vantage point he could see the whole room. Two dozen people waiting to leave or waiting to return. 

An old man, talking animatedly into his phone to his grandchildren. A young couple holding hands and flirting shamelessly. A businessman completing messages at a break-neck speed that even Paulson found amiable. A young man of no consequence playing a game on his phone. Paulson mentally listed all other civilians. 

Probability had shown that at least four of the individuals gathered there would be look-outs or sentries. 

If he was really after them, he would have the entire room arrested and held for questioning. 

But he wasn't.

He was waiting for the bigger prize. 

A girl came to the terminal waiting area and sat two seats away from Paulson. She was young, probably early to mid-twenties. Long dark hair. Seemingly intelligent air. College student? She shuffled through her bag for a moment and pulled out a book. 

Paulson choked on a breath and re-evaluated his 'seemingly intelligent air'. 

The girl noticed, smiling politely at him. "Are you a fan?" she asked, holding the book up. 

Paulson didn't really need to read the title to know what book it was. Every super sympathizer had the same copy. Paulson looked down his prominent nose at the girl. 

"No," he replied disdainfully. "I can't say that I am." 

Paulson tried to be on alert. The shuttle would be arriving any minute now. 

But the girl was still talking. 

"That's a bit unfortunate," the girl said, cracking open the book. "We might have had something to talk about." 

Paulson hummed, ignoring her. 

A loudspeaker buzzed through the terminal. "Excuse the interruption," a mild-mannered voice said. "But the shuttle from Mars has been delayed. The shuttle will arrive in twenty minutes."

Paulson settled back into his chair. This wasn't uncommon. He would be alerted by his team if someone were actually trying to pull something sneaky with the shuttle. 

Paulson didn't let himself feel confident, but he could feel the rising anticipation. This time. This time, he had accounted for everything and he was two steps ahead. Everything would work out and his prey would be in chains. Finally. Justice. 

"Waiting for someone?" The girl asked casually. 

Paulson spared her a glance that he knew would properly communicate his annoyance at the entire conversation but just hummed noncommittally in response. 

The girl smiled slightly, one corner of her mouth lifting. "Was that a yes  _hmm_ or a no  _hmm_?" she teased. 

Teased. 

This girl was teasing him?

Who in their right mind would tease a man, clearly tensed and focused, dressed in a black suit with the pin of NEO on his lapel? 

"It was an 'I don't commune casually with plebians'  _hmm_ ," Paulson said sourly. He stood and moved to another part of the room. 

The girl shook her head once his back was turned. When would Shawny-boy learn that  _that_ was his problem? When the NEO agent had settled to stand against the back wall with a face that looked like sour milk, the girl turned quickly back to her book, making sure Paulson had seen her watching him leave.

Poppy didn't need to look up to see the other civilians. She could hear them. It was enough. The old man. The forlorn woman in the corner. Every two minutes or so one of the people would glance, almost apprehensively, at the girl with the book.

How long before Paulson noticed? Or was he still stewing over the audacity of a young girl? 

Poppy glanced at him, looking up from her book. He was trying to pointedly not glare at her. She turned back to her book, smiling internally. Still stewing. 

Finally, the shuttle Paulson was waiting for pulled into the dock. He neared the entrance, clearly determined to cut off escape routes. Poppy noticed the nondescript men standing at the exits, undoubtedly extra security in case things got a bit dicey. Poppy stood as well, joining the throng now gathered around the terminal entrance, and positioning herself near enough to Paulson that she'd be able to speak to him without raising her voice too much. 

People began disembarking. Paulson's eyes scanned the crowd, suspicious of every face that passed. But not one face that he was looking for. No group huddled close together, no shifty looking individuals. Poppy saw Paulson's dismay as it slowly deepened into rage. Soon the shuttle was empty and reloading for the return trip to Mars. All of those who had been there before returned and loaded onto the shuttle. The couple. The grandfather. 

Paulson looked around, enraged.  _Where had he gone?_

Poppy smiled up at him kindly as she passed. "Vive la France," she winked.

Paulson's look of utter horror before the shuttle doors closed was priceless. 

 ~* ~* ~* ~* {O} *~ *~ *~ *~

 "You do realize," the young man with the phone said once they were safely on the shuttle, "That the pimpernel wasn't actually French?"

Poppy laughed, pulling off her long dark wig and scratching her head. "Yes. I just thought it'd be more effective than Vive L'Anglais."

The newlywed couple took off their disguises, cringing as they scooted away from each other. 

"That was uncomfortable," the darker skinned one said. He shuddered, wiping off the makeup Poppy had carefully applied hours earlier. "Sorry, man, I just don't swing that way."

His partner, a tall Asian man, made a face. "I nominate Poppy for the next couple charade. Drew can flirt with Paulson."

Poppy laughed at the look of horror on Drew's face. "Man! What did I just say?"

Ed raised an eyebrow over slanted Vietnamese eyes. "It'll give you a chance to get over your homophobia."

"Look," Drew said, "it ain't homophobia. If you had to put up with your own lame lines for an hour and a half you'd be--"

Drew's response was drowned out by the sound of the engines. Poppy only laughed. 

"Did Paulson say anything, Pops?" Alvin asked. He was wiping off the fake wrinkles that made him look like their grandfather.

Poppy her head. "No. He nearly choked when he saw the book, though." She turned to the young man who had put away his phone. "That was a good idea, thanks, Tony."

Tony rolled his eyes but nodded in acknowledgment. It hadn't been his idea, but it was his turn to play hero.

The forlorn woman from the corner spoke up now. "I...I must thank you all," she said quietly. "I.... I never thought th-that someone would... well.... I never thought I'd be one of the rescued ones. Thank you."

Poppy smiled at her. "It's no problem, Ellen," she said, reaching out a hand to put on top of hers. "This is what we do."

Ellen blinked and then glanced quickly at Tony, returning her wide-eyed gaze to Poppy, her cheeks slightly flushed. 

The woman lowered her voice. "Y- is that? I mean, is he..?"

Poppy followed her gaze to look at Tony who was pointedly looking away. Poppy shrugged noncommittally and winked, letting the answer remain ambiguous. 

The woman glanced at Tony again, wide-eyed and awestruck. Poppy saw Tony's cheeks turn pink and grinned. 

The rest of the trip was relatively quiet. Tony wasn't allowed to say much, so it was significantly quieter than usual. Drew and Ed tried to make up for it with endless bickering and the occasional anecdote. 

Poppy rested her head on Alvin's shoulder and eventually found herself lulled to sleep by the beating of his heart and the hum of the engines. Her brother shifted slightly so she'd be more comfortable. This would be the first decent night's sleep she'd had in a week. 

Over the top of her head, Alvin made light conversation with the woman they had rescued, explaining to her that after the 14-hour shuttle ride, she'd be placed with a host family who would help her get a job and get on her feet. 

"Someone will check up on you in a month or so and see how you're doing if that's alright," Alvin added. 

The woman cast a glance at Tony, secretly hoping that he'd be the one to come check on her. Alvin pretended not to notice and only smiled at her pleasantly. They needed to keep up the pretense that Tony  _could_ be the Pimpernel. They switched it up with every rescue. It kept people guessing.

But really, Tony had the look for it. Tall, heroic, blond. That was what Poppy had said, at least. Alvin smiled slightly, remembering how Poppy had made Tony blush. Now he brushed some short blonde hair out of her face as she slept.

Alvin was protective of his younger sister, even as she gallivanted across planets like some vigilante superhero. 

 _But,_ he admitted silently. _I hope that Tony eventually gets around to telling her how he feels. She needs someone like that in her life._ Not that Tony wasn't already in her life. Alvin just worried that Poppy would get so caught up in being the Pimpernel that she'd never live a life as just Poppy. 

Eventually, the woman, too, fell asleep, her head resting against the back wall of the small shuttle. 

Once she was breathing deeply, Alvin made eye contact with Tony over the top of Poppy's head and mouthed silently: "Are you okay?"

Tony shrugged back. "I'm alright," he mouthed. 

Alvin turned to Drew, who was fiddling with the frills on the skirt he was wearing. "Are you?" He asked silently. 

Drew gestured to the skirt with a dry 'what do you think' expression. Then he responded, still mouthing the words without noise in case the woman wasn't fully asleep. "Is Poppy?"

Alvin glanced down at his sister's frizzy blonde hair. He glanced back up at Drew and shrugged with one shoulder. "I think so," Alvin said. 

Alvin waited until he caught the eye of the tall Asian. "Ed? You okay?"

"Bruised rib," he pointed to the side of his chest. "From the fight in Charleston. But I'm okay."

Alvin nodded once in acknowledgment. They'd have a more in-depth briefing once they got back to Mars. For now, they were alive and all was well. He rested his head on top of his sister's. Not for the first time, he was grateful that he could feel her heartbeat. The soft sound and assurance of life lulled him to sleep. 

~* ~* ~* ~* {O} *~ *~ *~ *~

Paulson sat at his desk, tapping his fingers nervously. He knew he had to write the report. He just wasn't sure as to the  _phrasing_ of said report. He rubbed an anxious hand over his eyes and began typing. The sooner he finished the sooner the embarrassment would be over. 

**DATE: 13 APRIL 2180**

**REPORTING OFFICER: SHAWN D. PAULSON**

**SUSPECT CASE no.: 00017921905**

**NOTES:**

Paulson paused, fingers hovering over the illuminated desktop. He cringed. 

**NOTES: REPORTING OFFICER anticipated a move by the suspect known as "The Pimpernel". Unfortunately, REPORTING OFFICER**

What, made a mistake? Was distracted by a girl with bright eyes and didn't realize what a fool he was being? 

**REPORTING OFFICER incorrectly assumed that "The Pimpernel" would be arriving at the terminal when, in actuality, "The Pimpernel" was leaving from the terminal with an unspecified number of super-fugitives.**

**POSSIBLE OR SUGGESTED PREVENTATIVE ACTIONS: A new head of security.**

Paulson slammed his head against the table. The illuminated keyboard beeped at him loudly. He jolted back with an undignified yelp, glaring at the error message in the holo-screen. He dismissed it with his hand, gritting his teeth in frustration. 

"You  _do_ realize that you can't actually resign, correct?" a voice said behind him. 

Colder than ice and more still than a statue, Paulson whirled in his swivel chair (swallowing another undignified yelp), to face Rosemary Piers, the director of the New Earth Order and effectively the supreme authority that all citizens of Earth answered to. In the bright white office light, Piers looked particularly intimidating with short dark hair framing a pale face with eyes that seemed all sclera and pupil.

Paulson managed to keep a neutral expression. "I," he cleared his throat. "I wasn't intending to leave that in my final draft," he lied. 

 "I'm sure you weren't," Piers said flatly. She stepped forward to read the rest of the report from over Paulson's shoulder. "And how exactly did you come to find that the Pimpernel was leaving? Didn't you try to stop him?"

Paulson gritted his teeth. "I was there by the terminal exit, ma'am. I couldn't stop civilians from leaving. I had no proof."

"Nothing?" Piers raised a painted eyebrow. "Nothing at all? How do you know he was there at all?"

The girl with bright eyes flashed across his mind's eye. "A book," Paulson responded, blowing out his cheeks. "The book. A girl carrying it-- she," he cleared his throat. "She mentioned 'Vive La France' as she entered the return shuttle." 

"Ah," Piers said. 

Paulson wasn't 100% sure, but he felt fairly certain that Piers was unimpressed. 

"Well, the solution seems obvious," Piers said dismissively, turning to leave Paulson's office. 

She didn't seem inclined to share the obvious answer. Paulson had to call after her to get an explanation. "What solution?" he asked, eager to find a way to redeem himself. 

She glanced over her shoulder before completely quitting Paulson's office. "You need to go to Mars."

~* ~* ~* ~* {O} *~ *~ *~ *~

Poppy kicked her brother's legs lightly out of the way. "Feet off the furniture," she grumbled, also stealing his popcorn for good measure. 

"Hey!" he complained. 

Poppy ignored him and took in what the large holoscreen was projecting next to the opposite wall. "What are you even watching?" she asked. 

Alvin stole the popcorn bowl back, grinning self-consciously. "A documentary on the Pimpernel. I want to see if I'm mentioned."

Poppy rolled her eyes. "A bit conceited, are we?"

Alvin ignored the jibe. "Hey, Tony called. Are we doing the briefing today?" 

Poppy shrugged. "Sure. D'you think everyone could be here in an hour? Or should we give them two?" 

 _Most of them have been waiting. They'd probably be here in five minutes if you asked._ "Yeah, they could be here in an hour. I'll message them." 

"Thanks. I'm gonna eat all your popcorn."

 ~* ~* ~* ~* {O} *~ *~ *~ *~

[FIVE YEARS AGO]

Poppy's life had fallen into a comfortable rhythm when she'd moved out to join her brother in the Andromeda Colony on the northern side of the Quire Colony Cluster. She started attending Andromeda University and studying applied physics just for kicks and giggles. 

She already had two master's degrees from Andromeda. She had taken the classes via hologram while finishing her primary education in the Midas Colony where her parents lived. She was a published and reputable author in three fields: sociology, electronic engineering, and computer programming. 

She'd decided, spur of the moment, to take a trip to Earth one weekend. She had heard about Earth from school, her father and mother were Earthlings themselves, and she'd seen the chaos that Earth was bringing upon herself on the interplanetary news. 

Just for the experience. She wanted to know what it was like. 

That was when everything changed. Everything. 

~* ~* ~* ~* {O} *~ *~ *~ *~

[PRESENT DAY]

Paulson straightened his tie as the shuttle pulled into the docking station. He mentally reviewed his itinerary. He was slotted to meet with the governor of the Calypso Colony Cluster later that day and hopefully be able to meet with Vice President Bliss sometime that week. Paulson mentally braced himself. There was little chance that he would be warmly received. His intention being on Mars could hardly be disguised by the flimsy excuse of strengthening interplanetary relations. 

Paulson entered the terminal. This wasn't his first time visiting the Mars Colonies, but he drank in every detail. This was where the Pimpernel lived. This planet had bred a monster. 

Wide windows looked out into the evolving Martian terrain. Almost a hundred years back, scientists had begun the process of making Mars hospitable. The temporary bubble-like colonies would eventually become useless as the martian atmosphere would become breathable and the soil able to be cultivated. Looking out, Paulson could see the fledgling grasses one might find in a desert. Life couldn't be supported yet, but it was coming. The red soil and pink sky cast the world in a rosy tint. Paulson now understood what the Martian poet had said fifty years back,  _Even when life does not abound, the rosy light shines all around._ It wasn't as poetic as he thought. Simply a statement of fact. 

People glanced at him but otherwise paid him no mind as he collected his luggage and made his way to the local magnet train that would take him to the Midas colony where he'd be set up in a hotel for as long as necessary to draw the Pimpernel out of whatever hole he was hiding in. 

The Magnet train was as fast as any Paulson had ever taken on Earth. He watched through thick windows as bubble colony after bubble colony was passed. Some were larger than others. 

Which one? He wondered. Which one was he hiding in? 

Someone sitting next to hit shifted slightly, drawing Paulson's attention. He was an older man, with dark curly hair now streaked with gray. He wore glasses on his nose and looked down at a tablet in his hand that clearly displayed some technical information. From what Paulson could glean it was chemical processes of some kind.

The man noticed Paulson's attention. Before Paulson could turn away, the man smiled. 

"You a man of science, yourself?" He asked convivially. 

Paulson inclined his head. He could afford to be conversational now. He needed to find the Pimpernel. How else would he do that if he didn't engage the locals? "Of sorts. Political science, mostly. I dabble in this and that."

The man noticed the glint of the pin on Paulson's lapel and his expression changed, turning colder. "Ah. NEO," he said flatly. He turned back to his tablet, intending to leave the conversation there.

Paulson wasn't one to back down from a challenge. Unless it was a report for Piers. 

"Yes," Paulson glanced down at his pin curiously. He had assumed that government officials would be reluctant to work with him. He hadn't banked on the civilians having a problem with him as well. "Is that a problem?" 

The man shifted uncomfortably. He was dressed humbly, Paulson noted. Plaid shirt, plain trousers. An academic man? There was something about the expression on his face that Paulson found familiar.

He hesitated before answering. "Well," he inclined his head. "y'know, there's a reason a lot of us come to Mars. Generally, it's to get away from... well, from NEO, to be frank." 

Paulson raised an eyebrow. "I can understand that, but when you look at all the good NEO has done--."

"I'm not denying that!" the man said quickly, eyes widening. "NEO has definitely brought Earth closer together as a whole, and I know that it was needed. i just think they've gone off the deep-end now. All this... this war going on." 

Paulson smiled condescendingly. "There will always be war. So long as people disagree there will be war." This was a universally accepted fact.

The man shook his head, removing his glasses to rub his eyes. "You'll have to forgive me for disagreeing, sir. I think just because people don't see eye to eye, that doesn't mean they have to go and kill each other." He put the glasses back on his face. "Couldn't we at least respect each other that much?" 

"But if neither side is willing to compromise?" Paulson pressed. He noticed they were attracting a bit of an audience and he wasn't quite sure what to do about that. "If one side has all the advantages in the world and refuses the same basic rights to the other side, isn't it their job to fight for them?" 

"Fight until when?" the older man challenged. His blue eyes looked over the top rim of his glasses at Paulson, again the sense of familiarity was overwhelming. "Until one side and all their children are eradicated?" 

"If we must, yes," Paulson said emphatically. He waved a hand in the air. "It is only right that we seek justice--."

The man held up a hand to silence the NEO officer. "Son, I'm going to stop you right there," the piercing glare froze Paulson for a millisecond. "It's not justice you're looking for. It's vengeance. I know people have been hurt. I know it's been a long haul to get where you all are now. But you've already won. You've beaten them. You're in control. You've gotten your rights. Now you should let them be." 

Paulson sat in stiff silence for a long moment, formulating his thoughts. This man didn't understand. If the supers were allowed to continue to live, they would spawn like cockroaches beneath the sidewalk. More supers would be created until they took over the government again, throwing Earth back into the vicious cycle. Was this the opinion on Mars? Did they just see Earth as ruthless killers? 

"They'll rise again if we allow them," Paulson said, lowering his voice to sound reasonable. All eyes in the compartment were staring at them. Paulson got the sense from their body language that everyone who had an opinion sided with the other man. "They'll create more serum. They'll create more supers. Until they can have the power again. We have to prevent that at all costs. We cannot allow them to enslave the human race again." 

"Are they not even human to you?" the man asked sadly. He didn't meet the agent's cold, dark gaze, choosing instead to stare out the window opposite him into the Martian sunset. "Don't they have a choice? You won't even give them the opportunity to prove themselves?" 

Paulson sat back, finally realizing that he wasn't going to win this man over with any sort of logical argument. "We can't afford to," Paulson sighed. 

The man glanced at Paulson, but he was quiet for a moment. From the man's perspective, Paulson was young. Barely thirty, if that. Probably mid-twenties. He had a high forehead, pale skin, and dark gray eyes. To be an agent-- and an agent of enough standing to represent NEO on Mars-- at that young of an age, this man must have started on this path very young. Too young. 

"Who did you lose, son?" the man asked kindly. "How old were you?" 

Paulson blinked. He had not anticipated this turn in the conversation. Nor was he entirely sure he wanted to participate in it. 

The man sensed Paulson's hesitation and raised an apologetic hand. "I don't mean to pry. I lost my father. And my home. All of my colleagues." his eyes grew distant as he stared out the window, remembering the beginning of the war. "I lost all of them. I barely managed to escape. Me and my wife. I was one of the lucky ones." 

Paulson looked at this man in a new light. This man had been there, probably at the beginning of the war.

"I'm sorry," Paulson said after a minute. He leaned forward and offered a hand. "All this talk and I haven't asked your name. I'm Shawn Paulson. And you are..?" 

"Al," the man smiled demurely, shaking the offered hand. "Al Boor." 

Alphonse could tell from the horror-struck look on Paulson's face that he had made the connection. That was good. Maybe the young man, Shawn Paulson, would actually take his word seriously now and get out of NEO while he still could. 

"You started this."

Paulson sincerely hadn't intended to say it out loud. His face paled even more, the color going from milk to paper in a matter of seconds. He opened his mouth, intending to flounder out an apology, but he could only gasp for air, trying to breathe normally. 

Alphonse's blue eyes turned slowly to glare at him, but they weren't as menacing as Paulson had feared. He was upset, clearly, and likely hurt, but not angry. Just morose. "Is that how they remember me?" he asked quietly. He turned back to his chemical compositions. "Pity." 

Alphonse and Paulson didn't speak for the remainder of the journey. Paulson finally got the courage to apologize just as the train pulled into the Midas colony. He figured worse comes to worst he could make a hasty, awkward apology, and then scamper off the train as quickly as possible. As the train began to slow, Paulson turned to the old doctor. 

"Dr. Boor," Paulson began. "I really-- I mean truly, I didn't mean to say that  _you_ started this war," he said earnestly. "I just-- I realize you did everything in your power to stop--." 

The train came to a complete stop and a voice announced their arrival in the Midas Colony. Alphonse put a hand on Paulson's shoulder. "It's alright, son," he said. "And thank you." 

Alphonse stood and gathered his satchel. Paulson paled further as he realized they would be getting off at the same stop. How had he not seen that coming? Paulson also gathered his things and began filing out with the crowd into the train station. He tried not to remember that Alphonse Boor, father of murderers, was right behind him. 

 They entered the open train station. It was a humble place compared to what Paulson was used to on Earth. Only a few dozen people milled about. 

Paulson jumped when there was a soft hand on his shoulder. Dr. Boor, only a few inches shorter than Paulson himself, smiled up at the NEO agent. "You know where you're headed?" 

Paulson nodded, his mouth dry. He had to clear it before answering. "Yes. I'm going to the Hotel Igraine? I was told it's just around the corner."

Alphonse nodded and pointed toward a tall building made of deep red brick. Paulson recognized it the second it was singled out. "That's the one you're looking for." 

Paulson nodded his thanks and began to head off. 

"Agent Paulson," Dr. Boor said quickly before he got too far away. Paulson looked back to see Dr. Boor smiling kindly, offering a hand. Paulson shook it, smiling slightly as well. "If you're going to be in town for a while, maybe you'd like to have dinner with my wife and me?"

"I-- ah." Paulson again found himself struggling for words. "I'm meeting with Governor Shultz today." 

"Tomorrow then? I'd hate to think of you being all alone here on Mars," Alphonse smiled. 

Paulson swallowed. He had no excuse. There was no chance he'd be able to meet with the Vice President until friday at the earliest. "I," he cleared his throat. "Yes, thank you." 

Alphonse smiled and handed Paulson a scrap of paper with his address. "It's not too far from the hotel. If you have any trouble finding it, ask anyone for directions. We're all friends here." 

Paulson blinked as Alphonse gave a nod in farewell. "Good luck with your meeting. It was a pleasure to meet you, Agent Paulson." 

"Eh- You as well, Dr. Boor," Paulson was rooted to the spot for a few more seconds. 

Alphonse smiled to himself as he struck out on the short walk home. As always, the weather modulators were perfect. Plus, Alphonse might have just found a way to redeem himself from his mistakes on Earth. 

 

~* ~* ~* ~* {O} *~ *~ *~ *~

Paulson met with the Governor. For five minutes. 

As soon as he entered the room, Governor Shultz had stood, a cold expression on his tanned face. Paulson noticed the lack of windows first. It made him forget he was on Mars for a second.

"Agent Paulson," Governor Shultz said, not offering him a seat. "I would like this to be brief."

"As would I," Paulson said, trying to take charge of the situation. "There are just a few--." 

"I want you to know that I don't support your presence here," Shultz said. His whole demeanor was ice. "I don't want you here and I hope your objectives fail."

"I'm only here to--." 

"You and I both know that's a cover-up," Shultz waved a hand. "You're here for the Pimpernel." The governor leaned forward, putting his hands on the table. "I'll have you know,  _my wife_ was sentenced to death by you personally. Had it not been for the Pimpernel, she wouldn't be here." 

Paulson stood in silence, wondering if he was supposed to respond. He doubted very much that he'd get any help from the governing official. 

"You may go." It was an order. 

Paulson left in silence and returned to his hotel to begin his daily report to Piers. She wasn't going to like this. 

~* ~* ~* ~* {O} *~ *~ *~ *~

 [FIVE YEARS AGO]

Poppy stared up at the limitless sky, blinking in the sunlight that seemed so much brighter-- so much closer here. The sky was so blue. The air was crisp, cool in the autumn breeze. 

Poppy knew she probably seemed like a child in a candy store, but she just couldn't stop herself from drinking in every single beautiful detail. 

She sat on a bench in Central Park, watching leaves drift slowly through the breeze, swirling in gusts of wind. 

"Are you one of them Mars Colonists?" A gruff voice asked. 

Poppy looked up to see a girl with dark hair tied up in a neat ponytail and thick dark makeup around her eyes and lips. 

Poppy smiled at her brightly. "Yeah, I am," she said, a little apologetically. "I guess I'm not used to the sun being so close." 

The girl's black lips tugged into something like a smirk. "You Martians are like babies. Never seen nothin 'til yous come back." 

The girl sat beside Poppy on the bench without waiting to be invited to do so. Together, they silently watched the skies and the wind and the clouds rolling high above the buildings. Birds sang. Certain Mars Colonies had birds, but Midas didn't. Poppy wasn't used to hearing them. 

And  _bugs_. Poppy had never seen so many bugs in her entire life. 

"Don't mind me askin'," the girl said, "but what's Mars like? Is it really as red as everyone says?" 

"Yeah," Poppy nodded, thinking about home in a new light, from someone who had never been there. "It is. It makes everything pink." 

"Pink?" the girl made a face. "Sounds gross." 

Poppy shrugged, laughing. "Maybe, but it's all I've ever known. Things seem really green here. Green and blue." Poppy picked up a red maple leaf. "We don't get seasons like this. We have to formally adjust the weather controls in each colony. It's nice here." 

The girl made a face of acquiescence. "Yeah, I guess that makes some kinda sense." She then glanced around, looking somber and serious. If Poppy knew better, she might have called it a nervous air.

"Is it true that supers ain't hunted there?" she asked quietly. She glanced around again, but no one paid them any mind.

Poppy blinked. "Supers? Yeah. They're fine. The janitor at my high school was a super. So was my chemistry instructor." 

The girl let out a low whistle. "Wow," she said, looking back up at the sky dreamily. "And yous ain't scared they're gonna, like, mess yous up or somethin'?" 

Poppy shook her head. "No. I mean, Mr. Tinkin was a bit strict, but he was a good teacher. I liked him alright." 

"Wah-ow," the girl said, drawing out the 'wow' into two syllables. "That's thick."

Poppy made a face but smiled. "Um, thick?" 

"It's cool- weird, but cool," the girl translated. She smiled. "Hey, I'm Bina, by the way." She held out a hand covered in tattoos and rings and chains. 

Poppy shook it, smiling. "Poppy." 

"Nice tah meetcha, Popsicle," Bina said, grinning. 

 ~* ~* ~* ~* {O} *~ *~ *~ *~

 [PRESENT DAY]

Paulson arrived at the address Dr. Boor had given him some time in the evening. He wasn't sure when he was expected and didn't have a number to call, so he just assumed that any time would be fine. For once, Paulson's assuming actually worked to his advantage. 

Alphonse answered the door. It was a small home, neatly situated between two homes just like it. The walls were red, like everything else on Mars, but their door was white, pink in the fading sunlight. 

Alphonse smiled when he saw Paulson standing there nervously. "Come on in, Agent Paulson, please make yourself at home." He stepped aside to allow Paulson entrance to his home. 

The NEO agent entered nervously. The home was... cozy. Paulson couldn't actually remember the last time he had been in a normal home. There were family photos on the wall, decorative knick-knacks placed tastefully here and there to give the room a sense of prestige. Two couches sat adjacent to one another, both a dusty rose color with faded green cushions for accents. A low coffee table was adorned with personalized knick-knacks, presumably pictures of Dr. Boor's children. He couldn't see them very clearly and he certainly didn't feel comfortable trying to pry. 

"You just have yourself a seat. We'll call you in when the table's set." Dr. Boor gestured to the couch. 

"Are you sure I can't help--?" 

"No, absolutely not. Tonight you're our guest," he smiled kindly. "I wouldn't want to make you work and then harass you all the way through dinner. It's only one or the other." He gave Paulson a conspiratorial wink as he ducked through an archway, presumably to help his wife finish dinner. 

Paulson awkwardly sat on the couch Dr. Boor had directed him to. Something about Dr. Boor's wink and hasty departure reminded him of his failure to capture the pimpernel last week. That girl. Paulson was infuriated with himself. How could he have been such a brooding child that he hadn't realized she was part of the Pimpernel's entourage? In fairness, he hadn't been looking for sentries or anything. 

Still. He should have realized. 

Paulson distracted himself by inspecting the family knick-knacks on the coffee table. There were two snowglobes on top of a stack of scientific journals. Paulson picked up the nearest snowglobe. 

It was a young man, probably close to Paulson's own age with brown hair, like Dr. Boor's. In all but the facial structure, the young man in the snowglobe looked to be the spitting image of Dr. Boor. Paulson felt guilty all over again for what he had said the day before. 

Dr. Boor wasn't a monster. Despite having referred to him as the father of murderers. In fact, Paulson had always greatly admired his work. He just wished that Dr. Boor's initial discovery hadn't gotten into so many hands that didn't deserve it. 

Paulson put down the one snowglobe and picked up another. It was a young woman, perhaps a few years younger than her brother. She had long blonde hair that fell in unruly curls. She was laughing at whoever was taking the picture. 

She had Dr. Boor's smile, Paulson noticed immediately. 

Something else about her seemed familiar, but Paulson couldn't place it. 

"My daughter," a woman said. Paulson jumped slightly. Mrs. Boor had entered the room quietly and stood before Paulson with a kind smile. Her grayed hair was tied into a neat bun at the back of her neck. She wore a long white apron, now speckled with sauce of some kind. 

"She's," Paulson blinked, looking back at the snowglobe before carefully putting it next to its brother. "She's lovely," Paulson said off-handedly. 

Mrs. Boor nodded. "She's that," the mother smiled. "Dinner's ready, please, follow me." 

She led him through the archway to a small kitchen/dining area. There was a small square table with four chairs seated around it. Mrs. Boor gestured him to a seat as Dr. Boor brought a large bowl of soup to the table. 

They made light conversation as they ate, Dr. Boor introducing Paulson to his wife, Martha. Paulson made a note to remember the name, but not use it. A first-name basis seemed... awkward. He did insist on them dropping the 'agent' from his nomenclature. 

Dr. Boor stayed true to his promise about harassing Paulson throughout dinner. They got on the subject of politics and NEO again and began a patient debate about the ethics and morality of what the Earthen government was doing. 

Then, about halfway through dinner, Dr. Boor received a phone call. He smiled, glancing at his wife, "It's Poppy." 

He answered the call, flicking the screen so that it was cast against the back wall. Paulson felt rude for intervening. This was obviously a family call. He shouldn't be included in this, but sure enough, the shot included him now sitting behind Dr. Boor, from the camera's angle.  

The girl from the snowglobe smiled at her parents. Her hair was shorter now, just above her shoulders, but just as curly as it was in the snowglobe. She had a pleasant face, kind and intelligent, like her parents. 

"Hey, Pops," Dr. Boor said, smiling. "We were just having dinner, what's up?" 

"Hi, sweetie!" Mrs. Boor waved at the camera. "We have a guest tonight-- someone your father met on the train."

Poppy seemed a bit dazed for a split second but then smiled pleasantly. "That's thick!" she said, waving. "Hi! I'm Poppy-- I hope my parents haven't poisoned you too much yet."  

Dr. and Mrs. Boor glanced at Paulson, expecting him to reply. He choked for a second. "Oh, ah, no, not at all." He met Poppy's gaze. "Your parents are wonderful. I'm very grateful they were willing to have me over."

"You'll have to come by and meet him sometime, sweetie," Mrs. Boor said eagerly. "You and Alvin both!" 

Poppy winced minutely.This seemed, to Paulson, to be a variation of a conversation they had frequently. "I would if I could, Mom. We'll see, though. School's pretty crazy right now."

Dr. Boor laughed. "I'm sure you'll do fine," he said. He glanced over his shoulder at Paulson, not wanting to miss an opportunity to brag about his daughter. "She's already got two masters degrees, one in electrical engineering and the other in computer programming. And a bachelor's?" he glanced at his daughter for confirmation. She nodded, rolling her eyes. "A bachelor's in sociology." 

Paulson was, admittedly, impressed. "That's quite the accomplishment," he said. "How old are you?" he asked the girl. Paulson noticed that she jumped when he addressed her.

"Twenty-one," Dr. Boor responded proudly for his daughter. "She's a chip off the old block." 

"Daad," Poppy complained. Her face was pink- or maybe that was the Martian light.

"I'm sorry, sweetheart," her dad replied, smiling. "What were you calling about?" 

Poppy waved her hand airily. "Just calling to say hi. Alvin's out with the guys so I'm here watching rom coms."

"I thought you said school was crazy?" her dad raised an eyebrow. 

Poppy grinned. "It is. I'm avoiding the insanity."

"Then avoid it  _here_ ," Mrs. Boor insisted. 

Poppy glanced off the screen. "I'll talk to Al. We'll see, no promises though." 

"Alright, fair enough, sweetheart," her mother said. "We just miss having the two of you around." 

Poppy smiled. Paulson noticed that she had rather bright blue eyes-- the exact same shade as Dr. Boor's. She certainly was her father's daughter. "I'll let you guys get back to dinner. It was nice to meet you -- euh... what was your name?" 

Paulson blinked. He hadn't expected her to address him again. "Ah, Paulson," he responded quickly. "Shawn Paulson." 

"Right. Paulson," Poppy smiled. Was he imagining it, or was their a tightness in her face? A stiffness? "Nice to meet you. You all have a good night." 

"Alright, we love you!" her parents called before they hung up. 

The call with their daughter lightened the mood considerably. Paulson could tell they loved her very much. He felt a pang, thinking of his own family. 

"She's lovely," Paulson said, repeating what he had said earlier. "You both must be so proud." 

Mrs. Boor nodded. "Of her and her brother, both of them," she replied. "Do you have a family, Paulson?" 

 _Katie_. 

"No," he responded, a little too stiffly. "I don't." 

~* ~* ~* ~* {O} *~ *~ *~ *~

Miles away, in the Andromeda Colony, Poppy hung up the call and looked at the ceiling in abject horror. 

Shawn. Paulson. 

Paulson. 

Agent Shawn Paulson. 

Agent Shawn Douglas Paulson. 

Agent Shawn Douglas Paulson was in her parents' home  _right now_.

Poppy grabbed a cushion and pressed it over her face. And screamed. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I should really put this in chronological order, but it's not as exciting that way.  
> Also: Alvin ships it. Toppy FTW  
> Also Also: I apologize for awkward writing. More will be revealed as we go.


	3. Foiled

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Last time, assuming you didn't just read the last chapter, Poppy was introduced as the Scarlet Pimpernel. Shawn Paulson is her nemesis, who now is all chummy with Poppy's parents.  
> Hahaha. ha h a ha.  
> *EDIT* I was re reading it and realized i really don't like the look of my own writing, but since there's very little I can do to fix that, I edited some wording I found EXTREMELY awkward.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oh boy, this is a doozy.  
> This is probably the fluffiest chapter I intend to write. Enjoy it while it lasts.  
> Also, because I don't think I've mentioned yet. N. E. O. stands for **N** ew **E** arth **O** rder.

She called Alvin first, insisting that he come home and bring the guys with him. She was sorry to interrupt their bowling night, even more so when she found she couldn't get a hold of Jonas, her voice of reason. 

"Poppy?" Jonas' wife answered. "Is something wrong?"

"No," Poppy said quickly, not wanting to worry her. "No, everything's fine. Could you just tell Jonas to call me whenever he wakes up?"

"Yes, of course, sweetie, you have a good night." 

"I will, thank you, June. You as well." 

Poppy pressed her face into the pillow again, screaming. She kept screaming for such a long time that the boys arrived without her noticing. Well, she didn't notice until they sat on top of her, that is. Simultaneously, four varying weights sat on top of her. Two on her back, one on her legs and the fourth on her buttocks. 

"Pops," Drew complained. "Your butt is a terrible cushion." 

"Then get off of it," Poppy grumbled. She rolled onto her side, effortlessly tossing all four boys onto the cream-colored carpet where they landed in a graceless heap of limbs and plaid button-downs.  

They grumbled, detangling themselves from one another. At the same time, Poppy sat up, staring blankly at the back wall, hugging the pillow to her chest. She wanted to be the joking sister/leader/friend they all needed. But she just couldn't get those images out of her head. 

Her dad. 

Her dad was in the same room as Paulson. 

Her mom-- 

How could dad have done this?  _Invited_ that man to their  _home_?

Poppy needed Jonas. She needed someone to give her the reasoning she was lacking. 

"Yo... Mars to Pops, come in Pops," Drew was waving a hand, getting Poppy's attention. It was the third attempt that Poppy finally noticed.  

Poppy blinked. Then she swatted Drew's hand away. Tony pulled himself onto the couch beside Poppy, sitting as close as he dared. He wondered if Poppy would mind him sitting closer. 

"You alright, Poppy?" Tony asked earnestly. 

Poppy blinked in his direction. Her eyes, the most electric blue Tony had ever seen, were rimmed with red. "I don't know," she admitted.

"What happened?" Alvin asked, leaning up against the coffee table. "You sounded a bit freaked over the phone." 

"Ah," Poppy focused on her brother's face, darker toned than her own and infinitely more mature. "There's been a development." 

She tried to arrange her thoughts. How to tell them without causing mass hysteria? Granted, there would only be hysteria if she started it, but Poppy wanted to avoid the general topic of her parents currently dining with a murderer. 

"A development?" Ed asked, standing up to steal the chair in the corner. "What do you mean?" 

What would Jonas say?  _Just do it, kiddo._

Poppy took a deep breath. "Paulson's on Mars. Looking for the Pimpernel." 

There were varying levels of shock. Drew's mouth popped open, Alvin froze, and Ed stumbled into the chair he had been intending to steal. Tony inhaled sharply beside her. 

"How do you know?" Alvin spoke first. "Where is he?"

Poppy buried her face in the pillow. "That's the problem. He's in the Midas Colony."

Alvin's face paled. "Dad."

"Funny thing," Poppy said in a tone that clearly indicated it wasn't funny at all. "That's actually how I found out."

"Dad  _met_ Paulson?!"

Poppy squished her face into her pillow. "He was at dinner tonight when I called them."

The room was silent. If Mars had bugs, Poppy would have sworn she could hear them crawling outside the window. The guys all looked back at her. 

"He-  _what_?" 

"Paulson was in our house," Poppy explained, patiently freaking out more as she spoke each syllable. "Eating dinner with Mom and Dad." 

Tony put a soothing hand on her back, rubbing in small circles absent-mindedly. He wanted to console her somehow. "Where's Jonas?" Tony finally asked. "We need Jonas here." 

"Where's Jonas?" Tony finally asked. "We need Jonas here." 

Poppy bit her lip. She rested her head on Tony's shoulder as the nearest thing to head level. Alvin (and Ed and Drew) noticed how Tony blushed profusely. "I called him, but June answered. He has an early shift tomorrow. I didn't want to wake him up." 

"There's got to be something we can do," Tony insisted. 

Poppy sat up, causing Tony to withdraw his hand quickly. "There's nothing that  _we_ can do," Poppy said thoughtfully, looking out the dark window. "Mom did suggest that Alvin and I come to Midas and meet Paulson."

"We need Jonas's thoughts before we do anything," Alvin said quickly. 

Where Paulson was concerned-- and where their parents were concerned, Poppy was known to make rash decisions. Alvin didn't want Poppy to do something she would end up regretting. 

"Okay, like, I know this is serious," Drew began, barely managing to hide a grin. "but can I just ask: what did Paulson look like as the victim of your parents' goodwill? Can you just imagine him  _squirming_ with all this kindness and goodness around him? I'm surprised it didn't start melting him.

Poppy threw her pillow at him, hitting him squarely in the face with enough force to knock him backward. Days like this she remembered why she recruited Drew in the first place. As irreverent as he could be, he knew how to lighten a mood. 

 

Jonas called early the next morning. Poppy hadn't slep much. She'd been in a caffeine-induced mania of planning and scheming because if she  _did_ go to "meet" Paulson, she needed a plan. She'd have to think of a way to keep him away from others as much as possible and yet keep suspicion off her own back at the same time.

Just thinking about Paulson made bile rise up in the back of her throat. 

She hated the man. 

With every fiber of her being, she hated him. 

There he had been, slinking like a serpent in her parents' home, preying on their warmth and hospitality. Her parents were kind. Paulson was cruel. His cruelty knew no bounds. 

He had held her at gunpoint. 

He had help others at gunpoint because of her. 

He had held  _innocent civilians_ at gunpoint because of her. 

He had left people bleeding and dying in alleyways. 

And he claimed to be the good guy. 

Poppy resisted the urge to hit something. 

Poppy needed Jonas. 

As if in answer to her unspoken prayer, Poppy's phone rang from inside her clenched fist. The contact information for Jonas flashed on the screen. It was only a voice call, no video. He was probably walking into work. 

She answered. "Jonas." 

"Poppy." She could hear the kind smile in the older man's voice. "June said you sounded frazzled. Is everyone okay?" 

Poppy sat on the ground, leaning her back against her bed frame. "I think so," Poppy breathed, staring blankly at the map illuminated on her wall. "Thus far, at least. It's Paulson."

"Ahh," Jonas said knowingly. "What happened?" Poppy could hear the sounds of people in the background. She imagined Jonas walking through the shuttle station to clock in, his co-workers nodding hellos and good mornings to each other. 

"He's on Mars, Jo," Poppy leaned her head against her bed resignedly. "He's here-- with my  _parents_." 

The sound of Jonas' footsteps halted suddenly. "You parents were--." he cut himself off, aware that he was in a public place. 

"No, no," Poppy shook her head, even though she knew Jonas couldn't see her. "Nothing like that. They're fine. He... I don't really know, Jonas. He was having dinner at my parents' house last night. Does he  _know_ or is this all just a crazy coincidence?" All the thoughts and fears Poppy hadn't shared with the guys suddenly came spilling out. "Does he know who my dad is? Will he try to arrest him? Kill him? Do I go there an confront him? Do I get him kicked off of Mars? Do I just drug him and send him back to Earth in a baggage claim? Do I pretend that I don't hate him? Do I just--."

"Poppy, Poppy," Jonas repeated her name to get her attention. "It's going to be fine. You're the p-Princess. Everything always works out." 

Poppy chuckled. "Nice save." 

"I thank you," he said with courtesy. "Now, what did he say, exactly. Are you just worrying needlessly?" 

"Probably," Poppy admitted. She reimagined the scene, the opening up of the camera to view her parents and then seeing Paulson there in what had usually been Alvin's seat, just sitting there like a viper waiting to strike. 

"He didn't say much," Poppy admitted. "Dad started bragging about me. Paulson seemed impressed. My parents want Alvin and I to meet him next time we come around to visit."

"How long is he intending to stay in Midas?" Jonas asked. 

"I don't know," Poppy bit her lip. She could ask her dad, but he would want to know why she was curious. 

"Will he be moving through the different colonies? Is he trying to get the- get you to- I mean, is he trying to start something?" 

Poppy glanced at the Map. It showed the colonies on Mars in various pinpricks of light across the planet's surface. "If he does intend to start searching around, he'll have to start soon. If he wanted to stay off the Pimpernel's radar, he'll stay on the down-low, keep a low profile and try to integrate with the locals."

"Paulson?" Jonas scoffed. "Integrate? I thought he didn't chat with plebians or whatever it was."

Poppy shrugged. "He can if he needs to, he just doesn't like to," she pointed out. 

Jonas hummed. Poppy guessed that he was about to start his first run and would need to hang up soon. "I think you should go home for a visit," he said finally. "And befriend him." 

Poppy choked on her own spit, sitting up and coughing. "I'm sorry," she choked, _"what_?" 

"It's an opportunity, sweetheart," Jonas reminded her gently. "You can't pass this up." 

"But it's  _Paulson,_ " Poppy spat. 

"Yes?"

Poppy was quiet for a long moment, but she knew she couldn't keep Jonas from work for much longer. The young woman felt white-hot rage boil in the pit of her stomach. It was  _Paulson_. That made all the difference in the world. She couldn't just walk up to him and not pretend that she didn't hate him and all that he stood for. She couldn't just ignore the fact that he had tried to kill her on multiple occasions. 

"I  _hate_ him." 

The words hung in the air. 

It wasn't the first time she had ever said it. It wasn't the first time that she was on the verge of angry tears while cursing Paulson's name. 

"Poppy," Jonas said gently. 

"I've  _tried,_ Jonas," she said, breathing deeply to avoid getting choked up. "I've tried to forgive him. I can't. I won't."

"Can't or Won't?" Jonas asked. 

"Does it  _matter_?" Poppy demanded angrily. 

"Yes," he said patiently. "It makes a world of difference."

"I don't know!" 

"If you can't forgive him then what you've got to understand is that you  _can_. If you won't forgive him, then you'll need to work on that one as well. 

"This isn't for him, Poppy," he said emphatically. "This isn't even about him. This is about you." 

Poppy rubbed her forehead anxiously. "But Jonas, after all he's done?"

"After all he's done," he repeated. "You can't let him get to you the way he does. You  _need_ to let go." 

Poppy was silent for a long moment and Jonas sighed. She could just imagine him checking the clock, wishing they had more time to discuss. 

"I know you've got to go," Poppy sighed. "I'll take your advice, but... just give me time. This might end up exploding in our faces."

"That happens, doesn't it?" Jonas smiled. "Take care, sweetheart." 

"You as well, Jonas." 

 ~* ~* ~* ~* {O} *~ *~ *~ *~

Paulson had been intending to travel to the next colony cluster over and see if he could set up a meeting with the governor there-- a Governor Hill-- while he waited to hear from Vice President Bliss. 

He told as much to Dr. Boor when he called him as Paulson was finishing tying his tie that morning. 

"That's perfect-- Poppy could introduce you. Governor Hill and I are old friends. He used to live here in the Midas colony," Dr. Boor said brightly. 

Paulson fumbled with his tie and lost the knot. "Sorry?" he said.

"Oh, my apologies," Dr. Boor said over the phone. "My daughter is already on her way to Midas. She said she had some time to spare today. Her brother's busy with school, but Poppy said she'd like to meet you. She could accompany you to the Quire Cluster, if you'd like."

"Ah," Paulson's tie fell to the ground and he swore under his breath, then froze when he heard Dr. Boor chuckle. "No! I didn't! I mean, I'm so sorry! Yes, sure, that'd be great?" 

Dr. Boor chuckled again. "Ah, son, you're something else, you know that? I'll send Poppy to the hotel once she gets here- probably in about an hour?" 

"Th-That works," Paulson said, struggling with his tie again. 

"Have a good day, Paulson," Dr. Boor said brightly. "Good luck with Governor Hill." 

Paulson knew the doctor didn't actually mean that, but he thanked him anyway and hung up, finally able to focus on tying his tie. It wasn't until Paulson had finished tying the tie and looked up into the mirror to check the length that he realized what he had just agreed to. 

 

The girl, Poppy, was there earlier than Paulson had expected. She was already in the lobby of the Hotel Igraine when Paulson came down to wait for her. He recognized her immediately. She had her back to the staircase Paulson had chosen to take in lieu of the elevator. Her face was turned toward the doors of the hotel. There was a tension in her eyebrows that Paulson puzzled at for a split second. Why did she look so concerned? Did she really not have the time to take off? Would she had rather stayed with her parents then go help some strange NEO agent? 

Probably. It was probably that last one. 

Paulson cleared his throat as he neared her. She jumped and turned with an alacrity he hadn't expected, smiling brightly. Her bright face was framed by a mess of blonde curls. She was small but somehow managed to seem taller than she actually was. She wore a blue-green sweatshirt from the Andromeda University. Paulson couldn't help noticing that it seemed extraordinarily large for a girl her size, but he made no comment.

"Hullo!" she said cheerfully. The tension remained, despite her positive tone and expression. Stress. Anxiety. 

"Good morning," Paulson extended a hand, hoping to make her feel more at ease. "It's good to meet you in person. Poppy, right?" 

He saw something flash in her expression, but she shook the hand. A shock of static passed between them, making them both jump. 

Poppy rubbed her hand nervously. "Right. And you're Shawn?" 

"Paulson," he corrected automatically, a reflex from years of political relations. "Ah, if that's okay," he awkwardly avoided looking at her. "I- ah, I answer more readily to Paulson." 

Poppy shrugged, clearly not caring. "Whatever you'd like." She shoved her hands into the pocket of her jacket emblazoned with the AU of the Andromeda University crest. She looked around a bit awkwardly. 

"Looking for something?" Paulson asked.

"Er," Poppy glanced up at him. "No- not really. I just thought... you being NEO and all, you'd have, like security guards with you or something." 

Paulson, against his better intentions, found this girl fascinating. He gestured toward the doors while answering. "Ah, no," he said. "I don't need security. I'm only here on a diplomatic mission." 

Poppy lead the way out of the hotel lobby, making a face when she thought he couldn't see. She hadn't banked on him watching her so intently. Or on his light chuckle. 

"What's the face for? You don't think they'd send me on a diplomatic mission?" Paulson asked, shortening his stride so Poppy could keep up. 

Poppy coughed, hoping that she wasn't turning too pale from fear. "Not at all," she said. "It's just... it's no secret that you're the one hunting the Pimpernel. I figured you'd be here to smoke him out or something."

Paulson shrugged, sighing resignedly. "Your father saw that at once as well," Paulson admitted. "I _am_ looking to find the Pimpernel." He shrugged his shoulders and shoved his hands in his pockets like a guilty teenager. "That's my primary purpose. Secondary is talking to the governors and the President himself to get them to at least  _pretend_ they're not rooting for the Pimpernel." He made a frustrated shrug. 

Poppy studied Paulson carefully. He seemed pessimistic about his whole mission. Poppy didn't blame him. It was a hopeless cause. "They're too fond of him," she found herself saying. "That's not going to work." 

They reached the small train station and Poppy stood still, folding her arms as they waited for the train itself. Only two or three other people milled about. Poppy recognized their faces, but couldn't put names to them. At least she'd had witnesses if things got ugly. 

"I can't say I don't expect that, but what kind of agent would I be if I didn't at least try?" He leaned against a sign pole, facial muscles tugging into something that might have been a faint smile on another human being. 

"Maybe an intelligent one?" Poppy countered a little more bitingly than she really should have. 

"Excuse me?" Paulson asked, clearly insulted.

Poppy glanced at her watch impatiently. The train was due in five minutes. Usually, that wasn't a problem. Now? Here? It was. 

"If you're _busy,"_ he said, obviously meaning,  _if you really don't want to do this_ , "I can go on alone. I'll find my way, I can send Governor Hills your regards when I see him." 

Poppy wanted to leave. She did. She wanted to get as far away from him as possible. But this was a mission. She needed to finish it. 

"No," Poppy sighed. "I'm staying."

"You really don't have to," Paulson insisted. His beady eyes glared at her indignantly. "I can see how much of a burden this is for you." He stared at her lazily, daring her to contradict him.

Poppy realized her mistake, but it didn't make her feel any better. She shouldn't be pushing him away. Jonas had said to  _befriend_ him, not antagonize him. She had been needling and obnoxious when she should have been polite and unassuming.

Rather like how Paulson was acting. 

 _That_ got on her nerves. 

After a pregnant pause, Poppy finally took a deep breath. "I'm sorry," she said, trying not to grit her teeth. "You're right, I've been rude."

"I would say so," Paulson said evenly. Poppy shot him a glare that he ignored casually. 

"But I won't leave you to go on alone."

"Oh, I didn't think you cared, Boor," Paulson said sarcastically. Poppy noticed the use of her last name. It was a distancing move, manipulating the relationship to push it away. 

"How else would I stop you from finding the pimpernel?"  She meant it as a taunt, but she should have known Paulson to blow things out of proportion. 

His languid pose froze suddenly, turning stiff as a board. "You-," he said, too angry to give a complete sentence. 

It briefly crossed Poppy's mind to wink and say  _Vivez la France_ like she had on Earth, but she decided against it. "Me," Poppy said defiantly. "I will stop you with my bare hands if need be." 

Paulson realized that Poppy didn't actually know anything. How could she? He let out a breath and condescendingly admired the girl in front of him. "You've got passion," he commented. "What makes you think that the pimpernel is worth your protection?" 

Poppy smiled. "Anyone is worth protecting from you, Paulson."

Paulson raised an eyebrow and appraised her. He was  _almost_ relieved that she was so antagonistic. Had he been required to spend the day with a kind, sweet, mild-mannered girl he would have found himself at a loss for words. Luckily, if this spawn of Dr. Boor was going to be his guide, he wouldn't be bored. 

"You really don't like me," Paulson noticed. 

The train pulled in right then. Poppy smiled before leading the way, "Well, you've got that right at least."

~* ~* ~* ~* {O} *~ *~ *~ *~

[FIVE YEARS AGO]

Bria gave Poppy the local's tour of New York City. 

"Over there's them deadbeats and drug addicts. They be nice enough if they gots their pills for the day," she pointed over to a dark alley that smelled of something burning. She waved cheerily. "'Ey Mon! Good tah seeya!" 

A man, Mon, Poppy presumed, waved back sleepily. His dark, greasy hair fell into his eyes that were so puffed and red, Poppy wasn't entirely sure he actually saw them. Poppy waved, nonetheless, at Mon and the others that Bria called out to, all of them bearing the scars and marks of people who had been outed by society. People that felt lost. People that found makeshift families the same way they found their makeshift homes, by building them with whatever they could find and not being picky about what got it. 

Poppy was enthralled by them.  

There weren't homeless on Mars. People were put to use wherever space could be found.  

"What about your family?" Poppy asked at one point to Bria. "Do you know where they are?"

Bria had faltered a step in her worn black combat boots. Several expressions crossed her face. Surprise, shock, pain, dismay, and finally apathy. "Not really," she said. "I mean, my dad tries tah catch me sometimes. More often than not, we just pretend i died. It makes them both so much happier that way."

Poppy pulled a face. "That doesn't seem right." 

Bria shrugged again. "It's my own fault," she said bitterly. "For taken that--."

She cut herself off, staring at the ground. Then she shook her head and smiled a quirky grin at Poppy. "Never mind. Here, yah gottah see his statue ovah heah." 

But Poppy was smart. 

She glanced around, looking in particular for drones or security cameras or something that could record audio. She found nothing, but pulled Bria into an alley all the same, grabbing the girl's shoulders so they faced one another. 

"You're a super," Poppy breathed. 

Bria looked like she had been kneed in the gut. She glanced around like a cornered rat. "I don't know what you're--." 

"Shh," Poppy shushed her and pulled Bria into a tight hug. "It's fine. No one's going to hurt you." 

Bria pushed Poppy away gruffly, looking hurt and shocked. "You don't know what you're talking about!" Without another word, Bria ran out of the alley, boots clomping on the pavement. Poppy watched her go, confused. Why would she need to be so scared? Poppy knew that Earth was having a hard time adapting to super/not super relations, but why would Bria need to look so... so... so scared?

"Walls have ears, darlin'," a voice from the shadows said. Poppy whirled, heart thumping. A frumpy looking man with a bottle of liquor squinted at her from a dark corner. "You might have just signed the warrant fo her arrest."

~* ~* ~* ~* {O} *~ *~ *~ *~

Poppy sat on the train across from Paulson. The thought of sitting next to him made her stomach turn. She wished she had her earpiece in and could talk to the guys. She wished she had told them where she was going. She had told Alvin, just in case something happened to her, but she worried that they would have followed her if she had told them all. But she had a part to play. She needed to remember that. 

Only problem: she wasn't exactly sure what that part was. 

"Tell me about yourself," Paulson said suddenly.

"What?" Poppy was drawn out of her reverie and identity crisis by his question and wasn't sure she had heard it right. Had he just asked about her? Ha. like that was going to happen. 

"Tell me about yourself," he repeated. He raised an eyebrow, looking stiff and irritable. His white-blond hair looked pink in the Martian light. "Maybe getting to know each other will help ease the tension." 

She took a deep breath, steadying her nerves. "What do you want to know?" she asked, shrugging. "I'm an open book." 

He raised a disbelieving eyebrow at her. She smiled back, clearly amused by his reaction. "Andromeda University," Paulson decided. "Tell me about your school." 

Poppy glanced down at her sweatshirt. Well, it was actually Alvin's, but she had stolen it. "It's alright. I'm studying physics now." 

"Physics?" he repeated politely. Poppy only nodded. "That's fascinating. What got you into that particular field?" Paulson asked curiously.

_I figured if I'm going to continue to jump off buildings to avoid you, I should at lease know a rough estimate of all the things that could possibly kill me._

"I don't know," Poppy replied. "Just sounded like fun." 

"Fun?" Paulson repeated without actually intending to. 

A ghost of a smirk played across Poppy's face. "Fun," she repeated. "Entertaining, interesting, not really for any intellectual purpose." 

He blinked, trying not to smile. She was phrasing all of her questions in a way that would irritate him. Oddly enough, they were starting to rather amuse him. 

"You're going to school just for fun?" Paulson asked. "What do you do for work?" 

Poppy shrugged. "Nothing steady. I've authored a few books on engineering and a few other commentaries on social norms. Some academic journals ask me to write for them. Just freelance stuff." 

Paulson made a mental note to look up those journals later that night. "I remember your father mentioning your academic achievements. Tell me, what made you decide to pursue so much education? Didn't you have a particular direction you wanted to go?

Poppy blinked at him. She had been trying to annoy him. She had calculated all her answers to be deplorable to him, despite the fact that they were honest answers.  Poppy had considered lying. But she didn't. 

She glanced at the man sitting opposite her. Despite their differences, despite how much she hated him, she couldn't bring herself to lie to him and she sensed that he would treat her to the same courtesy. A lie right now seemed... wrong.  

And she respected him too much for that.

"I did, a few years back," she admitted as the Martian terrain passed behind them. "I wanted to be a civil rights activist." she shrugged. "Turns out there's not much of a need for them here on Mars. So I just content myself with writing articles that will likely never reach their intended audience."

"Ah," was all Paulson could say. He could imagine who Poppy envisioned as her intended audience. Most likely, those cockroaches crawling beneath the cracks of civilized human culture. Paulson pushed the thought aside.

"What about you?" Poppy asked suddenly, half-interrupting his thoughts. "What got you into NEO?" 

Poppy knew why, of course, but it wasn't like she could tell Paulson that she knew. Poppy wouldn't deny that Paulson's motives were understandable, but his means were cruel and detestable. It might have started as a noble venture, but Paulson had changed in the process.

Katie wouldn't have liked the man Paulson had become, Poppy thought. Not that Poppy had ever met her personally. 

Now it was Paulson's turn to avoid eye contact. He didn't want to lie to her, but he wasn't ready to talk about his past. "It's a long story," Paulson said noncommittally. "The war with supers hit a little too close to home."

"Ah," was all Poppy said. She settled back into her seat, imagining that they'd be able to keep silent fort the rest of the trip. 

Of course, she was wrong. 

"What about your brother? What's he studying?" 

"Chemistry," Poppy responded promptly. "He wants to find a better solution to the anti-serum that you all have now. Preferably something that won't kill supers." She glared at him right in the eye as she spoke, hoping to make him squirm.

Paulson rolled his eyes, not taking the bait. Instead, he asked something that knocked Poppy completely off-balance. 

"Is that the only reason why you don't like NEO?" Paulson asked quietly. 

Poppy stared at him for a long moment. "One of the reasons," she allowed.

Paulson glanced at the window to collect his thoughts. He could understand not liking NEO and he could understand not liking himself. No great empire or emperor was ever built without its enemies. 

"I'm glad your brother is working on that-- or has it as a goal or what have you," Paulson admitted. 

"It's something NEO should be working on itself," Poppy shot back, quick as lightning. 

"That's a fair point, but not my decision to make," Paulson countered. 

"So?" 

"So then why do you act like everything I say to you is a personal affront?" Paulson challenged. He was grateful that the train car was empty this time. He didn't need an audience to his dispute with Dr. Boor's daughter and he was really fed up with her attitude.

Poppy pressed her lips together tightly, but didn't respond. 

Which was good because Paulson wasn't finished. "We've been talking for half an hour, Boor," he said, finding it hard to call her by her first name. "And you've made one attack after another. What is your problem?"

Poppy shook her head, biting her lip to stop herself from yelling. All the same, her words came out rushed and hot and full of repressed emotion. "You don't get it, do you? You _represent_  everything evil in the human race, Paulson. You--" she bit of a word before she said too much. "You commit atrocities in the name of your government. I've heard the reports. I know who you are." 

"And you're just some no-account girl with opinions," Paulson shot back venomously. 

Poppy arched an eyebrow, glad that she hadn't been the first to lose her cool and resort to name-calling. Paulson picked at an imaginary spot on his tie, regretting his words, but not willing to take them back. 

"Then why did you come here?" Paulson asked. He lifted his gaze to meet hers. "Why come to Midas if you knew who I was? Why pretend?" 

No one ever asks why, Poppy thought bitterly. That was a principle she built her whole operation around. Rare few people ever pause to ask why, at least aloud. 

"My parents," she said simply. 

"So you were willing to face someone," he gestured to himself, "you see as a murderer because your parents asked you to?" he shook his head. "I'm sorry, but I don't buy it." 

"Oh but you were so  _charming_ at dinner," Poppy said sarcastically. 

He raised an eyebrow now, not saying anything. The sarcastic disbelief was written across his face. Then he must have made some connection in his mind. "You wanted to protect them," he breathed, staring at her with some emotion Poppy couldn't name. 

Poppy blinked, the blood draining from her face. "What?" 

"You wanted to protect your parents?" Paulson guessed, his tone incredulous and disbelieving, but quiet. "From... From me?" 

Poppy tried to keep a neutral expression. She had worried that he knew about her team. She had worried that he'd put the pieces together. She should have known he couldn't have. 

Her blank expression told Paulson everything he needed to know. He shrugged. "That's fine," he admitted, not going to tell her that his stone cold heart had actually been pricked for the first time in years at the idea that this girl of outstanding intelligence had felt the need to rush to Midas to keep her parents safe. He was impressed, though that feeling was swallowed up in his guilt at being the source of danger to her family.

He was impressed, to say the least, though that feeling was swallowed up in his guilt at being the source of danger to her family.

Poppy didn't know what to say. No coherent thought made it long enough to form a sentence. She stared at Paulson, the cold vampire of a man whom she hated. 

There was a long moment of silence between them. Poppy glanced at her watch, surprised that such a short amount of time had passed since they boarded. Barely fifteen minutes. They still had about twenty until they reached Andromeda. Poppy considered sending a message to Alvin or one of the guys, but Poppy didn't want to risk them getting in the cross-fire. Chances are, Poppy and Paulson would end up running into at least one of them. Hopefully that wouldn't be a problem.

"Can I be honest with you?" Paulson asked quietly, drawing Poppy's attention. 

 _I don't know,_ Poppy thought angrily,  _can you_? At the same time that another part of her brain said,  _no. You really can't._

"Go for it," Poppy said noncommittally. 

Paulson, unperturbed, continued in the same soft tone. Definitely not something Poppy had ever heard before. "I... I can't tell you how sorry I am," he looked up at her, making solid eye contact. "for making you worry about your family." 

Poppy realized it then. 

Katie. 

He was thinking about Katie.

Poppy felt the world tilt, her eyes fixated on Paulson. Those words weren't computing. Or rather, they were computing too well. Poppy heard them. She understood them. She believed them. She knew what Paulson had been through. She knew what family meant to him.

Something changed in the air between them. It made sense. 

 

"I'm sorry, and the offer still stands," he said slowly. "You can go home, spend time with your parents. I won't touch them, you have my word." 

Poppy knew in other circumstances she would chuckle without humor. She would point out that his word meant nothing. She would point out all the times when his word had been absolutely meaningless. All of the times when people had trusted him. All the times when he had flipped the tables at the last minute, making everyone around him suffer. 

But his eyes. His posture. His face. He couldn't be lying. She knew him too well.

She met his eyes with her own, frozen in their depth. 

"You mean that?" she said, eyes wide. 

Paulson blinked, his gaze meeting hers and holding them there, dark and light, balancing each other on the brink of disaster. Something was about to crack, shatter into a million pieces. 

"Of course. You can go free and they won't be harmed. I'll leave Midas for another colony if that makes you more comfortable. They'd be safe from me." 

Time stopped. Poppy could feel her heartbeat. Once. Twice. The train didn't exist anymore. Mars didn't exist. The very seats they sat on seemed to vanish from beneath them. Those words,  _they'd be safe from me,_   _You can go free,_ and  _Of course_ , haunted Poppy's every incoherent, subconscious thought. She didn't react. She couldn't. 

"Thank you," she said, more like a breath than she had intended. 

Paulson smiled. "You're welcome."

 

It was a hard sell for Poppy to tell herself she completely hated him after that. 

~* ~* ~* ~* {O} *~ *~ *~ *~

[FIVE YEARS AGO]

Poppy ran after Bria, catching up to her with surprising speed. Without warning, Bria slapped Poppy across the cheek. Dazed, Poppy had to start jogging again to catch up with Bria. 

"Leave me  _alone_ ," Bria snapped over her shoulder, throwing a trashcan in Poppy's way. 

"Bria! I'm sorry! I didn't mean!"

Poppy had to jump over a bench in pursuit of Bria. 

"Just leave me  _alone!_ " 

Bria came to a sudden stop, having just run into a tall man in a black suit. 

 "Bria Smith," a cold voice said. "You're under arrest for suspect superior activities." 

"What?" Bria began cursing. "No! Get away from me!" 

 "Hey!" Poppy felt fear and dread freeze her heart. "No! Let her go!"

"This doesn't concern you," the tall man said, pushing Poppy roughly away as he clamped tight handcuffs around Bria's hands.

Poppy was knocked off balance and fell to the ground. Two huge goons came from nowhere and started dragging Bria away to a black vehicle Poppy didn't know the name of. Poppy watched in horror and Bria cursed and cussed until the door was shut. 

"She wasn't  _doing_ anything!" Poppy wanted to sound confident, but she only sounded scared. 

"She exists," the tall man said over his shoulder. "That is enough." 

"B-but."

The man turned back. And in that moment, Poppy's memory took a picture. A photo that would be emblazoned on her cerebral cortex forever. The tall man, face illuminated to a near blinding white, glaring at Poppy with dark gray eyes. Immaculate almost white-blond hair gelled into an immovable position. 

For a millisecond they held each other's gaze, one with hate and disgust, the other with fear and guilt. 

"What's going to happen to her?' Poppy asked. 

"That's not your concern," the tall man said, finally turning away. "I'd suggest you move along, girl." 

~* ~* ~* ~* {O} *~ *~ *~ *~

 Poppy stayed with Paulson, despite his offer for her to leave. She introduced him to Governor Hills and left them alone to meet, choosing to wander around Main Street, where the Colony Hall was located. She eventually settled into the outdoor (relatively speaking) pavilion of a cafe across the street. 

It was no coincidence she could see the governor's window from where she sat. Given the angle, she could barely see the tops of their heads. That was fine. Despite the fact that Poppy trusted the governor implicitly, Poppy was capable of hacking into his security system and watching their entire conversation, Poppy let them to themselves. Besides, she had other concerns.

Like the fact that Paulson had a heart. 

Like the fact that they were essentially the same person, once you took away the governments they fought for or against.

Poppy knew how his feelings worked. She knew how to use his emotions against him. She knew how to make him angry to the point that he was imbalanced and she could take him down. 

She had never seen his emotions move him to kindness. 

He hardly knew her. As far as he knew, this was the first time they had ever met in person. Yet he had been willing... he had wanted her to be at peace. 

It was a small thing, Poppy reasoned. It didn't really matter where Paulson stayed, it would be no matter to him if he was stationed in one cluster over another. In fact, he'd most likely be required to move at one point or another in his search for the Pimpernel. 

Poppy stirred her drink thoughtfully, glancing up at the window. Paulson was still seated there across from the governor. 

She had to consider what Paulson's being here would mean for her team's effort to rescue supers. It would make things easier on the Earth-bound side, but if Paulson got word that the Pimpernel was returning from an endeavor, it would be a simple matter to wait out the fourteen hours until the shuttle arrived. There were only so many shuttles to and from Earth. It would be too easy to figure out which one. Someone would need to run interference while the mission took place. At least during the return trip. 

Poppy made a mental list of all the spots she had been planning to hit. Fortine supermax, Salem, a warehouse in Quebec, and a few dozen across Europe. If she wanted to take advantage of Paulson's being occupied on Mars, the bigger targets would be the priority. Fortine. Then Salem. the others as soon as possible. 

Poppy knew she couldn't save everyone, but she had to try. 

She sighed and glanced back up at the window. Paulson was standing, obviously taking his leave of Hills. Poppy glanced at her watch and then went back inside the cafe, ordering a second drink. 

 

Paulson came out feeling deflated. Governor Hills had been kind, but uncooperative. He told Paulson plainly that had it not been Poppy asking on Paulson's behalf, Paulson wouldn't have been allowed past the front doors of the hall. 

Paulson made a note that if he ever got the opportunity to speak to her again, he would thank her for that. 

The governor of the Quire cluster was completely opposed to the idea of Paulson's presence on Mars. 

In fact, not only was meeting with Hills unproductive, it was  _counter_ productive. Hills had implied that he would be speaking with President Tremblay and Vice President Bliss about getting Paulson deported. 

Taking the outside steps quickly, Paulson squinted up at the sun, seeming so far away. He paused, looking around. He hadn't expected Poppy to wait for him, but he also wasn't exactly at peace with where they had left off the conversation. 

But he couldn't say he was disappointed when he finally saw her exiting the cafe across the street, holding two cups. She held one up for him, clearly in an indication that it was his. 

He quickly strode over to her, smiling softly "You're here?" he asked. 

Poppy nodded, offering the warm cup. "I am." 

He took the cup gratefully, making sure their hands didn't touch. "Thank you. I thought you would have left." 

She smiled, taking a sip of her own drink and leading the way out of the cafe sitting area. "I couldn't have you wandering around Mars unsupervised. You might actually discover the pimpernel." 

Paulson sighed resignedly, oddly at ease with Poppy now. He knew something had changed on the train. He wasn't sure what had caused the shift, but now Poppy's whole attitude had become significantly less antagonistic. It was a pleasant change. "It appears all of Mars is against me," the NEO agent sighed again. "The governor only allowed me through the doors because you asked him to," he smiled down at her. "Thank you for that." 

A ghost of a smile played on Poppy's visage. 

"So what now?" he asked, lengthening his stride only just. Poppy kept up easily. "Would you care to give me a tour?" 

Poppy glanced at him with a raised eyebrow. "A tour?" she repeated amusedly. "Of Andromeda?" 

He shrugged, a smile still playing on his face. "Why not?" he asked. He looked up into the dome, staring out across the Martian horizon. "The weather's nice for it."

Poppy chuckled, "You do realize that we have weather modulators that regulate the temperature and humidity, right?" 

"See, you're a great guide," he smiled. "The tour's going great already." 

"You just don't know anything about Mars," Poppy pointed out. 

"But you're still giving me a tour," Paulson insisted."You wouldn't want me wandering around on my own, would you?" He winked at her before taking a sip from his cup. 

He blinked as his eyes widened. "How did you kn-?"

Poppy only winked in response. 

~* ~* ~* ~* {O} *~ *~ *~ *~

Alvin left his advanced biochem class wishing the sun wasn't so bright. His head already hurt and the fact that he had to worry about his little sister with the man who had tried to kill her on multiple occasions was _not_ helping. 

Drew rammed into him from the side. "Yo, man, how'd your class go?" 

Alvin shoved Drew casually to the side, accidentally knocking him into Tony. 

"Hey!" Tony complained, almost losing his balance. 

"Sorry, bro," Alvin said, punching Tony's shoulder. "It was Drew's fault, though." 

"Bro." Drew punched Alvin's arm. 

"Must we really greet each other this way?" Ed said, falling into step beside the others as they left through campus gates. "We already get enough bruises." 

"Hey, hush up," Drew said, smacking his Vietnamese friend. "We don't want everyone knowing--."

All four boys fell silent at a familiar, yet unexpected laugh. They turned in one unanimous body toward the source, just past the school gates, down the street toward the local smoothie cart. Poppy stood there laughing with a man all four of them recognized. The man in question was laughing as well, his normally terrifying features scrunched up as he laughed with Poppy. 

The boys all looked at one another with varying shades of horror, surprise, and disgust. 

Alvin was the first to react, hurrying in a weird stoop-crouch thing that he thought would seem more inconspicuous. Yes, dear readers, for an elite member of a secret band of vigilantes, he can be something of an idiot. But he's our idiot and we love him. He went to hide behind the smoothie cart, the three other boys following suit. The man tending to the cart glanced at them curiously but glanced at the girl laughing with the tall man and then nodded in a 'you may continue' sort of way to the band of the Scarlet Pimpernel. 

Poppy, of course, noticed them just behind Paulson and nearly choked on her smoothie, causing Paulson to chortle again, only stopping when Poppy gently nudged him aside to see her friends hiding behind the smoothie cart. 

She leaned across it casually, inclining her head toward her brother with a raised eyebrow and playful eyes. "Enjoying yourselves?" she asked. 

They all straightened as Paulson came up beside Poppy to see what the fuss was. Alvin jumped up quickest, trying to recover his dignity. "We-- ah...." 

"Alvin's idea!" Drew called before he, Tony, and Ed all booked it off the scene. Poppy watched them go with a long-suffering smile as she shook her head. 

She turned to Paulson, who had taken in the whole scene with some sort of amused bewilderment. "Sorry Paulson," she said, smiling. "My friends are a bit... eccentric." 

"If they're friends with you, I'd imagine they'd have to be," he said. 

Alvin could never, in a million years, have been prepared for the smile that Paulson gave his sister. Paulson? Had a soul? What? Since when? 

The aforementioned man extended a hand toward Alvin. "I'm Shawn Paulson," he said, smiling still. "You sister's been showing me around Andromeda." 

Alvin shook the hand, not sure what expression he wore, but he was sure that Poppy would give him heck for it later. "H-How did you know that she--." 

Paulson made a face, looking apologetically between Poppy and her brother as he reclaimed his hand. "Sorry, your dad has pictures of the two of you around your home. He had me over for dinner the other day." He trailed off, looking helplessly at Poppy. "It's still weird, isn't it?" 

Poppy scrunched her nose and nodded. "Yep. Way to go." 

Paulson laughed again. Alvin recoiled at the sound and Poppy sent him a warning glare. "Your sister has graciously informed me that I have a tendency to make everything weird or awkward." 

"You  _do_." Poppy said, jabbing his tie with a finger. 

Paulson laughed, but Alvin noticed the distinct bit of red creeping up his neck. He was  _blushing._

Alvin thought he might have just lost his mind. 

"Fair enough," Paulson laughed, trying to hide his red face and neck with a smile. 

Poppy turned to her brother. "Alvin, Paulson's never seen that old Scarlet Pimpernel movie. I'm gonna make him watch it, do you have some time?" Her expression was fitting of a girl who had just met someone she could torture with one of their least favorite things, but Alvin couldn't tell if that meant she wanted him to come with or not. To be honest, Alvin didn't want Paulson in their home. It felt like an invasion of some kind or a breach of some sort of contract. There are lines you don't cross as top secret enemies. Watching movies with one another in the other's home is one of those lines. 

"Uh," Alvin glanced between them. He could see over Poppy's shoulder that the guys had crept around the back and were now standing behind some bushes outside a tall townhome. 

His gaze returned to Poppy's quickly. She had noticed his wandering eyes and guessed the reason. Her expression hardened.

"I've got some stuff to catch up on, but I'll be back home soon?" Alvin said helpfully. "Gottagoseeyabyeee." he dashed off before Poppy could get another word in. 

Poppy watched him leave with a dryly incredulous expression. Paulson nudged her with his shoulder. "And you call  _me_ awkward?"

Poppy just elbowed him back.

 

Alvin joined the others. They all hid behind the bushes, watching as Paulson  _flirted_ with Poppy. 

"This is disgusting," Drew said, sticking out his tongue like he was vomiting. 

"Then look away," Ed suggested.

They watched as Poppy tapped Paulson's nose, making the agent blush all over again. 

"Appalling," Drew said. 

Poppy dragged Paulson away from the smoothie cart. Exchanging Poppy's grip on his wrist, Paulson linked his arm with her's and then continued down the street toward the Boor siblings' home. 

"There's gotta be some kind of law against this," Drew continued, looking around at his comrades. "Man, this is weird!" 

"Alvin, does she know what she's doing?" Tony asked. There was more than the required venom in his voice as they all watched the couple continue. 

Alvin didn't answer. 

 

Poppy worried that her friends would do something stupid, but she kept her arm firmly linked with Paulson's. She tried to keep up a comfortable stream of conversation, but Paulson saw through it. 

"Your friends are worried, aren't they?" It wasn't really a question. 

Poppy's face fell slightly, thinking about her friends. "Yeah," she said. "They're a bit... overprotective." 

"That's good," Paulson said positively, glancing down at the girl on his arm. She glanced up at him with a sarcastic smile and an arched eyebrow. "I mean it's good to have overprotective friends. I mean-- not that you need-- but it's just that-- overprotective isn't necessarily a bad thing, right?" 

Poppy laughed, leaning a bit more on his arm. "Yes," she agreed. "I think you're right. They're good friends." 

"Do you think they'll be staking us out during the movie?" Paulson asked after a pause.

"Oh, definitely." 

 

Alvin took point, positioning himself just outside the sitting room where Poppy and Paulson sat watching a movie older than dirt. He had Ed on cameras while Tony and Drew were positioned outside the two sitting room windows. 

"Guys, I hate this movie," Drew complained quietly into the ear peice. 

"You should have read the book, then," Ed supplied from the basement. "It was much worse." 

"Don't say that," Tony chided. "It's one of Poppy's favorites." 

"Only because it irritates Paulson so much," Alvin muttered. He could overhear their conversation from the other room. "

"Oh please!" Paulson was saying after swallowing a mouthful of popcorn. "This is so ridiculous. Surely Chauvelin sees that every time Percy comes to France that more aristos disappear?" 

 _"He_ never has," Tony pointed out. 

Ed and Drew snickered. 

"Ugh," Poppy complained. "I'm more annoyed with Marguerite. Really-- what is she thinking?" 

"Y'know," Drew pointed out. "We've been wondering the same thing." 

"You don't like her?" Paulson asked. 

"She slows him down, distracts him. I hope today's pimpernel doesn't have someone like that." 

"Pahhhhhppy," Drew drew out the first syllable. "You're making this weird." 

Ed was the only one who laughed. Alvin thought he could hear the sound of Tony's heart breaking. 

"But she seems--." Paulson started.

Poppy threw a fistful of popcorn at him. "No, shut up, she's awful. Just watch the movie." 

"Not if you're going to throw popcorn!" he threw more at her, managing to get it caught in her hair. "Remember, I'm a diplomat!" he said as it became a veritable popcorn storm.  

"Whatever, Paulson," she grabbed two fistfuls and threw them with careful trajectory. They bounced in every direction, specifically off his head and into Paulson's suit coat which sat on the armrest of the couch. Soon enough, Paulson's pockets would be full.  

He used a pillow to defend himself. "Careful, Boor," he said, grinning. "Our chaperones might feel the need to come to your rescue." 

Poppy rolled her eyes and chucked the pillow so it his Paulson squarely in the face. "Now you've just made them feel awkward. Way to go." 

The airwaves were silent for a moment, as was the couple sitting in front of the holoscreen. 

"So.... uh...." Drew said. "Does that mean...?" 

"Yes, That was an invitation to join us," Poppy called in the direction of the kitchen. "Drew, Tony, I can see you outside the window."

Slowly, everyone amassed in the living room. Paulson was only surprised that all of them were there. He, too, had seen the two young men outside, but he hadn't seen or heard the other two. "Where in the world were those two?" he blinked. 

Poppy smiled, knowing she wouldn't give away all her secrets. "Probably outside the kitchen door. It's pretty easy to hear what's going on from there." 

"They really are overprotective," Paulson commented, smirking at Poppy. "They must be so worried about poor-," a pillow hit his head, "-defenseless-," Poppy nearly tackled him to the ground, "little girl-- HeY!" Don't! I'm- t-t-t-ticklish!" 

Poppy began tickling him as she sat on his chest. He was rendered immobile, frozen by giggle fits. 

 _So,_ Alvin phrased for his journal that night,  _Today we had Paulson trapped beneath Poppy being tickled to death. In other news, the sky is green and NEO is a pacifist society._

"P-P-Poppy!" Paulson gasped, trying to block her hands. "S-Stop!" 

He finally managed to toss her off of him and they both tried to catch their breath. 

"Awk-ward," Drew said loud enough for everyone to hear. 

His mistake. 

Poppy's head popped up with a wicked grin. In a blur, she was on top of Drew, tickling him. Then the guys decided to team up against Poppy, all of them trying to pry her off of their comrade. Then she was buried beneath four over-grown children in a fit of giggles and plaid button-downs. 

Paulson sat up on his elbows to watch the spectacle, smiling at the ease with which Poppy interacted with her friends. He felt a strange pang of envy, wishing he had people he could be at ease with like that. 

Paulson felt his phone ping. It was a communication from Piers, asking for an update. Paulson sighed, resigning himself to reporting failure for yet another day. He glanced at Poppy, barely visible beneath twisting limbs. He stood up, leaning against the wall comfortably. It was then that Paulson noticed one of the young men not tackle/tickling Poppy. It was the blond one with the serious face. One of the two who had been outside the window.

Paulson nodded at him, smiling slightly in a sort of un-threatening greeting. The young man stepped toward Paulson to be heard over Poppy's screams. Paulson held out a hand. "Shawn Paulson," he said. "We were never properly introduced." 

"I know who you are," the man said, a little stiffly. He looked at the hand for a moment before deciding to shake it. Paulson considered that a minor victory. "I'm Tony D'Urso. Poppy's friend." 

They way he said it gave Paulson pause. There was a hint of a threat somewhere in that statement. 

"I mean her no harm," Paulson said, watching D'Urso's facial expressions carefully. 

"I would assume _she_ believes you at least," Tony glanced at the heap. Poppy was breaking free of the other three and starting to pile them one on top of the other. "The rest of us, that's a different matter." 

Paulson's smile turned a bit sour. This upstart little punk had no power to threaten him with. "You know, I don't think I actually need your permission to be acquainted with Poppy," he said slowly.

"What was that?" 

Poppy sat, a little breathless on top of Ed, Drew, and Alvin. She rested her elbow on a crossed knee, cupping her chin in the same hand. She beamed triumphantly. "What about me?" 

"Pops-- can't -- breathe," Alvin gasped. 

She let them go, moving toward Tony and Paulson. Paulson noticed with interest that Tony had blushed and looked away. He didn't notice the death glare that Poppy was giving her friend. "Tony? What's up?" 

 Paulson glanced at Poppy and back at Tony. The agent wasn't unaware of the palpitations of his heartbeat, but he rather elected to deny the reasoning behind them. 

"Ah, nothing," Tony said, shifting his weight from one foot to the other, "Just introducing myself."

Even Paulson could read the 'we'll talk about that later' expression on Poppy's face. 

"Actually, Poppy," Paulson decided to have some pity on Tony. "I need to get back to Midas. My superior is asking for a report."

Poppy nodded. She picked up his coat and handed it to him "Okay. Let me walk you to the train station."

 

 

"Sure," he smiled slightly. 

Once they were out on the street, Poppy linked her arm through his. They walked in an oddly companionable silence for a few steps. 

"This isn't as weird as it should be, is it?" Poppy asked finally. 

Paulson blinked down at her, one corner of his mouth tugging up. "I was just thinking the same thing. It's almost kind of nice." 

Poppy smiled, leaning against his arm a bit more. Jonas had been right. This was needed. 

"I would apologize for my friends' behavior," she said after another companionable pause, "but neither they nor me are particularly sorry for any of it."

He glanced at her curiously. "You're not sorry?"

"I can't be," she said. "I would do the same for them."

"They care about you," Paulson admitted. "I can't fault them that either." 

Poppy had the sense to remain silent to that remark. She glanced up into the MartIan sky, admiring the constellations through the protective dome of the colony. 

Paulson followed her gaze, trying to walk a bit slower. "Do you know which one is Earth?"

Poppy pointed up to a bright blue star. "Right there," she said, squinting to make sure she had picked the right one.

"That blue one?" Paulson asked, stooping and pointing so they were eye level.

Poppy noted a little self-consciously how close they were. She wanted to shy away. She wanted to remove her arm from his. 

But did she? Did she really?

He straightened up, still admiring the stars. "I don't get to see stars that often," he admitted. 

"Oh?" Poppy prompted. 

"Yeah," he glanced down at her, his ears tipped with the tiniest little blush. "They're beautiful."

Poppy didn't need to be an expert observer to know that Paulson wasn't just talking about the stars. 

She felt her face turn red and prayed vainly that Paulson wouldn't notice and wouldn't get the wrong idea. She really was just embarrassed, not flattered. 

But no, he got the wrong idea. 

He glanced away from her, trying to scowl in a vain effort to hide his deepening red visage. "Poppy, I wanted to say, about earlier... I'm sorry."

 

"You don't have to apologize," Poppy said. "I- I mean it was-- just your opinion. You don't need to--." 

"No," he said, drawing Poppy's attention. "I was wrong. You-- You're more than the no-account I might have thought you were."

"And you're not nearly as... well, I was going to say you're not nearly as awkward as I thought, but..." Poppy trailed off and rolled her eyes.

Paulson have a sarcastic laugh, elbowing Poppy lightly.

Poppy was internally screaming. 

They were only steps away from the train station. The next train was due in a matter of minutes. 

"I'm going to be in Midas on Friday," Poppy said, not really thinking. "If you have time, maybe we could finish the movie?

Not caring about the movie, Paulson nodded, smiling slightly. "Well, I'll make time." He opened his mouth to say something else, but thankfully the train pulled up right then. 

Poppy removed her arm from his, smiling at him with a twinge of something she didn't want to examine yet.  "Goodbye, Paulson. Travel safe."

In a crazy, split-second decision, Paulson leaned down and kissed Poppy's cheek. 

"Good night, Poppy," he smiled, staying eye level with her. "Sleep well."

Then he was gone, not looking back. Poppy watched him go, waving as the train shot off. As soon as he was out of sight, Poppy touched the spot where his lips had been only a moment ago. The small spot of skin burned with a blush.

Ah, she thought to herself. I think I may be in trouble now.

 ~* ~* ~* ~* {O} *~ *~ *~ *~

[FIVE YEARS AGO]

Poppy made the decision. She refused to sit idly by and watch as Bria was taken away. 

As soon as the man, the car, and Bria had driven out of view, Poppy turned tail and ran back to the alleyway where the man had first warned her of her blunder. She skidded to a stop in front of him. 

"I need to know," she had hurriedly, not breathing hard. "Where do they keep them?" 

She didn't need to elaborate. The man eyed her warily. "You're fightin' a losin' battle there, darlin'. You can't save her." 

Something fiery flashed in a pair of blue eyes. "Watch me." 

 

She wasn't sure exactly how she had gotten this far, but Poppy found herself, not two hours later, crawling through the maintenance tunnels beneath NEO HQ. She had her phone streaming live feed from the security cameras down below. Poppy was grateful they didn't have some of the more extreme security measures her father had told her about back in his lab on Earth. That would have made life very difficult. As she crawled, she flicked the screen so it showed the feed from Bria's cell instead. 

The cell consisted of white cement walls, several feet thick, a toilet in one corner and a single pillow that Bria was currently curled up on. 

Poppy positioned herself above Bria's cell. Taking a deep breath, Poppy sent a mild virus through the camera ware, causing it to black out for approximately ten minutes. 

She pushed up on several meters of cement, grunting as she did so. It was lucky that the maintenance tunnels were so short. Otherwise, Poppy wouldn't have been able to push the cement aside. When the cement was finally in the cell, Poppy popped her head up, grinning at Bria. "Ready to go?" she asked. 

Bria's face was ashen and her eyes were wide. "How in the  _\--_ did you do that?" 

Poppy just shook her head. "I'll explain later. We need to leave. Now." 

They got back into the maintenance tunnels and started crawling furiously. They had now about eight minutes before they figured out where the two girls had gone. It had taken Poppy five minutes to get into the cell. That left three for them to hide or run or both. 

Poppy felt a prickle of sweat on her forehead despite the coolness of the tunnel. 

The crawling seemed to last forever. Finally, Poppy broke through the surface and checked her watch. Maybe it was a miracle, but they had four whole minutes until the cameras came back on. She grabbed Bria's writst. 

" _Come on_." 

They ran stealthily into a back alley where Poppy had already taken out the cameras with well-aimed rocks. She shoved a bag at Bria. "Put these on. Meet me at the shuttle complex in ten minutes." 

Poppy ducked around the alley, looking for anyone to be coming their way. Poppy was relieved to see that they were alone. Her brain felt fuzzy. She couldn't believe she had just broken someone out of prison. 

Poppy ran to a trashcan and pulled out another bag (that she had left there). It contained a change of clothes for her. She quickly found a safe spot and changed. Instead of wearing a make-shift black stealth suit, Poppy was now wearing bright colors that she usually wore. Then she ducked around, heading toward the main entrance of the NEO supermax prison. 

 

"I want to see her," Poppy demanded angrily to the old man who sat behind the desk. "She's my friend." 

"No visitors allowed, Miss," the guard said with a monotone. 

"But it's wrong! She wasn't doing anything!" Poppy insisted, sounding very convincing. 

"Then why is she imprisoned?" The guard countered. 

"Because she's an enemy of the world," a cold voice said behind Poppy. 

Poppy whirled in a panic and her eyes widened in fear. It was the tall man from before. The one who had taken Bria in the first place. He glared down at Poppy with the darkest eyes she had ever seen. "You were her friend from before, weren't you?" he asked in a voice like thin ice. 

Poppy nodded, too scared to say anything. She noticed the pin on the lapel of his suit coat. Seven stars and the letters N.E.O. formed out of gold glinted back at her evilly.

"Then you should be relieved that we have captured her. One less cockroach to deal with in the world," he said. 

"Cockroach?" Poppy finally found her voice. "She's a  _girl_!" 

The man raised his eyebrow. "I would suggest you take such conformist talk elsewhere, young lady. We do not welcome those sentiments here." 

Poppy wanted to spit in his face. She wanted to slap him. "You're justifying the murderer of an innocent girl just because of what she  _is_." 

The man leaned down condescendingly so they were eye level. "Yes," he said slowly. "I am. And I'll do it again." 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Dr. Boor is Paulson's problematic fave.  
> Paulson totally has a thing for Poppy which gives him another ninety-nine problems to deal with.  
> Also, I do this every time-- well, every time except the first one. I always say I'm gonna make Poppy and Paulson hate each other. To some extent they do, but they also mirror each other perfectly. You could say they're _foils_ of each other.  
>  Love comes from understanding. You can't understand someone without loving them as they love themselves (totes a paraphrased quote from Enders Game)  
> 


	4. Oath

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> *announcer voice* PREVIOUSLY ON SOMETHING ABOUT POPPIES: Shawn Paulson, the man in charge of the Pimpernel's capture, has come to Mars to discover the identity of Earth's hero.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Significantly shorter. Sorry (?) friend. Past month has been a bit crazy.   
> HERE YA GO SPACEFARM.

After telling the guys about her plan, Poppy had expected things to be as usual; them, following her instructions to the letter and without question. Instead, she had faced three silent and sullen boys while Tony stepped forward, quietly requesting to speak with her privately. 

He followed her to the study where her large glowing map illuminated the wall. She stood in front of the desk, waiting for him to start. She noting his agitation, the way he kept touching his face, shifting his weight from one foot to the other and back again. She intended to let him start, to let him vent out his frustration because he obviously disapproved of her plan. But if he didn't speak up soon, Poppy would start for him. Besides, Poppy had to admit she understood. Heck,  _she_ didn't approve of her plan. 

 "You can't  _do this_ ," Tony was half-shouting as he paced the length of the study. 

Poppy folded her arms, watching Tony pace with an emotionless expression. "Tony, we've discussed this. You don't--."

"I won't question your ideas," he said, glancing at her (Poppy noted how, since entering the study, he hadn't allowed his eyes to linger on her for more than a second) and waving a distracted hand. Poppy hadn't seen him this agitated in years. Not since he had first found out that she was the Pimpernel. "What I  _do_ question is your motives.  _Why_ are you sending us away now?" 

Poppy leaned against back against her desk, crossing her legs. Ah. The motives. Right.

Avoidance.

"The plan has been set for weeks now," Poppy pointed out, gesturing to show Tony how simple this would be. "It's straightforward." 

He shook his head, calling her bluff but still not looking at her. "No, no, no, you need to tell me why you're sending us away. With Paulson here, don't you think that we should stay? Save this mission until he's gone?" 

"That's impossible," Poppy said flatly. Tony still didn't look up. "We don't know how long Paulson will be here. We can't put missions on hold just because he's here. Not to mention, Alvin and I will be here to keep him occupied if things get dicey," Poppy added patiently. "I'm sending you all now because it's  _safer_. With Paulson here, it'll be a clear shot." That worked. For Poppy at least. 

Tony still didn't seem appeased. Poppy watched her friend struggle to come up with another reason why this mission was a bad idea. Poppy had no doubt that anything he brought up she would have already considered. Finally, Tony stopped in front of her with his eyes locked on hers, rigid like a soldier with a face set like stone, resolute in what he was about to say. 

"I don't like the idea of you being alone with Paulson," he said firmly, a nervous twitch in his lip giving away the strain Tony felt at stating his opinion. "I feel that you are being swayed in your judgments."

Poppy appraised him carefully, making sure that her face gave away nothing. Sure, Tony was right, and Poppy had no idea what she was doing. But she didn't need him thinking her incompetent. "Thank you for telling me of your concern," she said, mirroring his formal tone, "but I am completely objective in my judgments and I will react as I see fit for the good of you, the team, and the supers we try to save."

Poppy had a flashback to only a short time ago when she had walked home from the train station. She came to the conclusion that she had absolutely no idea about anything. Anything at all. This mission could be a terrible idea. It really could. Her judgments were totally at fault. And she had no idea how to fix them.

She had no idea.

Tony took an angry step forward. "Poppy--." 

"Tony, don't fight me on this," she said warningly. "When I asked you to be a member of this team, you swore you'd obey. I'm asking you, please, go on the mission, come back, save some lives in the process." 

Tony deflated visibly, his shoulders and arms relaxing. He stared at her for a long moment before nodding. "Okay," he said finally. "Okay. I'll go. But please, Poppy, promise me you'll watch yourself? I don't want Paulson to hurt you." 

Poppy smiled, touched by his concern. She patted his shoulder. "I will, Tony, thank you." 

~* ~* ~* ~* {O} *~ *~ *~ *~

[FIVE YEARS AGO}

Paulson watched as the girl scampered off, looking terrified. Then he turned to the man behind the desk. "The cameras have been off for nearly ten minutes now," he snapped. "Fix them." 

"Sir," the man said, his eyes pleading, "Please, we're doing all that we can." 

Paulson ground his teeth, but turned heel and said nothing. It grated on his nerves, these weak security measures. Sooner or later, someone was going to figure them out and use that knowledge to their advantage. 

Before Paulson could make it to the stairs, the man at the desk called him back. "Sir! They're back on!" 

Paulson nodded in acknowledgment. But the next moment his blood froze.

"Sir! Our new Prisoner! She's gone!" 

~* ~* ~* ~* {O} *~ *~ *~ *~

Ed sighed wearily. He glanced down from his perch atop the inner wall. He tensed, ready to jump at a moments notice. 

Drew  _could_ be in trouble. Or he was surrounded by NEO officers on purpose. 

Ed decided to wait it out. He glanced across to the opposite wall, where Tony was crouched similarly. Tony made a questioning gesture, clearly asking if they should intervene. 

Ed thought about it. Technically Tony was running the operation. Ed made a deferring gesture, letting the leader make the call. Besides, Drew had made fun of his pick up lines. This is what the philosophers referred to as "poetic justice". 

Tony nodded, looking determined. He pointed to his own black-clad chest and raised one finger. Then he pointed at Ed, holding up two fingers.

Ed got the message. Tony first, then Ed. Take out the guards. Steal their uniforms. Get the prisoners. Escape, hopefully in a clever manner. 

Ed nodded his understanding. 

Tony dropped down, landing lightly on his feet without a sound.

The world held its breath for a silent moment. 

Then he pounced. Guns were pulled, blasts fired. Ed dropped down opposite. Two of the guards turned on him. He smirked. 

Duck. Dodge. Attack. Evade. 

Everything occurred in one big blur. Ed recalled eventually grabbing Drew by the neck of his shirt and tossing him to the side. 

Duck, attack. Ed jabbed a fist into one guard's gut. He felt a hand grab his left arm from behind. Ed twisted, kicked, flipped. 

All the guards fell, one by one either unconscious or unwilling to move. Tony pulled the looped length of nylon chord and began tying the guards together as Ed and Drew claimed their uniforms. 

"Prisoner transfer?" Drew asked, straightening his belt and glancing at Tony. 

Tony nodded minutely. "Prisoner transfer." 

The three friends continued into the hallway where the prisoners were being kept. They had a specific target: a concert violinist who had been taken just recently by the government. They looked at the numbers on the doors. They took up a light jog, not encountering any other guards since the alarm had been ringing in the bottom level for the past twenty minutes. 

Plain cell door after plain cell door, the team ran, searching tirelessly for the cell. 

"I don't think it's on this floor," Ed put it, panting slightly. 

"What? It has to be," Tony said. 

"Nah, I think Bread here is right," Drew said, glancing at the cell doors on his right side. To his left, he could see the floor directly below them and directly above them. "I think it's probably on the floor below us." 

"The pimpernel said--," Tony cut himself off, grunting irritatedly as he jumped to the railing. "Come on." 

They jumped down lightly to the floor beneath, landing on the balls of their feet. Sure enough, the cell numbers were now much closer to the one they were looking for. 

Drew coughed in what might have been a forced manner. "So, ah, are we gonna talk about the Pimpernel and y'know, the other one?" Drew asked. 

"No," Tony said fiercely, still looking straight ahead. "We're not." 

"Oo-kay," Drew shot a ' _you know what I'm sayin' brah?_ _'_ look in Ed's direction as they jogged. 

Ed rolled his eyes but froze mid-step with his comrades as they arrived at the cell door. Tony entered in the specified key code they had gotten from Poppy only hours earlier. When they opened the door, the violinist was reclining on his cot with his arms behind his head, the traditional over-large green jumpsuit nearly drowning his thin frame. He jolted upright, looking at the three men in front of him, perplexed. 

"What is it? It is the alarm?" 

"Yeah," Tony said. "And sorry, in advance." 

Ed stepped forward with a syringe. 

The last thing the violinist remembered was a headache and the vague idea that he had been thrown gracelessly over the shoulder of someone too close to the ground for his taste. 

Drew threw the violinist across his shoulder, holding onto his legs with one arm. "I got him," the man said. "Let's go." 

Then they made their escape. As Poppy had predicted, it was the smoothest mission they had ever had. Tony did the honors, using a code Poppy had given them to hack into every available holo-emitter. As they boarded the shuttle, now dressed as casual tourists with their drunk brother-in-law, the virus took effect, creating a virtual fireworks display that finished in a familiar red flower floating above the fortine supermax. 

~* ~* ~* ~* {O} *~ *~ *~ *~

It was Thursday evening when Poppy was notified by Tony that they had Veniamin Mikhailov and were on the shuttle toward Mars. She was lying on her bed surrounded by homework she had no motivation to complete as she smiled at the message, sending a quick reply in acknowledgment and congratulations. 

Poppy was proud of her boys. They had done well. She had been watching via security feeds for the better part of the day. They had done well. There was a tight spot when Drew had been caught by some guards, but Tony and Ed had handled it beautifully. 

Poppy replayed the last conversation she had had with Tony before their departure. Not the one where she had tried to defend her motives (which kept coming painfully to mind), but the one where she gave her final instructions.

"I'll be watching once you're inside," Poppy had told him, absent-mindedly straightening Tony's jacket. She stared up at him earnestly. "If you need help, anything, just motion to the cameras and I'll give you whatever I can, a distraction, a blackout, etc." 

Tony had smiled down at her warmly. "Poppy," he had said, taking her hands in his so she'd stop worrying. "We'll be fine." 

Poppy had sighed, a motion she repeated now, in the present. 

Now that they were out of harm's way, it was easy to say that she had been completely confident in the mission. But she had been biting her nails for the past 24 hours. 

A second communique came up on Poppy's phone, illuminating the screen once again. 

_From: Shawn_

_To: Poppy_

_I might have to ask a rain check on the movie tomorrow night. Something came up._

Poppy felt her heart stop. No. No. No. There was only one thing that would have popped up right then and Poppy was fairly certain it was her own trademarked red flower. 

 _P: I hope it's nothing serious._  

_S: I'm sure you do._

Poppy sighed in frustration. She really didn't need Paulson's sass right now. 

_S: I might be out of town. We'll see. I'll let you know by 4 tomorrow afternoon?_

Poppy debated it internally for just a moment. Would it be more suspicious for her to ask if it had something to do with the pimpernel or to not ask?

Meh. 

_P: This is about the pimpernel, isn't it?_

Poppy stared at the message blankly, wondering if she should regret it. She didn't.

_S: Poppy_

_S: Don't interfere_

Poppy smirked. Like heck she wouldn't. 

_From: Poppy_

_To: Tony_

_Paulson's on to you all. Be careful. Keep disguises on until you get to New Hampshire Colony._

Then she flicked back to her conversation with Paulson. 

_P: Me, interfere? I can't imagine._

_S: Please._

Poppy hadn't expected that. She read the single answer again. Paulson had sent another message before she could begin to formulate a reply.

_S: I'll call you later, I promise. Please, just don't interfere._

Poppy never responded. She distanced herself from her thought processes and flicked over to Tony's much more platonic message. 

_T: Okay. Be safe._

Poppy smirked. 

_P: I'm always safe._

Poppy shut her phone off and stared at the ceiling once again. The dim light from some electronic she had forgotten to turn off cast strange green shadows across the dim ceiling. She rolled onto her side, hugging a pillow to her chest.

The crew would be fine. She doubted Paulson would recognize them as her friends. They were good. He might recognize Veniamin and that would be a problem. Poppy glanced at the time illuminated on her wall in soft, barely visible numbers. 

Her team would be arriving around 3 in the afternoon. She had fourteen hours to come up with enough contingency plans that nothing woul be left to chance.

She idly considered calling Jonas, but since he was piloting the shuttle, Poppy figured she should leave him be. 

Option one: (Poppy mentally listed as she stared up at her ceiling again) I cause a blackout just as they get to the station. Not harmful, just the lights. 

Option two: I stop Paulson from getting to the shuttle port via a shut-down of the train systems in the Calypso cluster. 

Option three: do nothing. Let Tony work it out. He'll have a plan or he'll ask for help. I need to give him a chance. 

Poppy reviewed her list, unsure. She didn't want to turn on her phone. Nothing could be done on either side until the shuttle landed. She glanced at her clock again. it was past one o'clock in the morning. Whatever the case was, Poppy decided that it could wait until after she'd slept. 

So, the Pimpernel slept, dreaming confusing dreams. 

~* ~* ~* ~* {O} *~ *~ *~ *~

[FIVE YEARS AGO]

Poppy stood anxiously at the terminal. She didn't see Bria anywhere. She looked down at her watch. Poppy had said ten minutes, right? Where was Bria? had she been recaptured? 

The terminal was bustling with people. So many. Too many. Poppy had never felt claustrophobic before in her life, but now, with so many people, Poppy felt sure that the agent from before had spies everywhere. Her chest felt tight. The light was too bright. Was she about to faint? Is this what fainting feels like? And why on earth did the sun have to be so close? 

"Hey," said a hand on Poppy's shoulder.

Poppy jumped, and then realized that (naturally) it hadn't been the hand that had spoken. 

It was Bria, looking like she was trying not to cry. Her eyeliner seemed runny and her nose was red. 

Poppy let out a long sigh and hugged her tightly, not saying anything. 

Tentatively, Bria put her hands on Poppy's back, hugging her as well. They didn't say anything, still too scared. 

Then the happy illusion shattered with one word. 

"Bria?" a deep voice said in a tone of disbelief. 

Poppy let go of her and whirled, fearful of the agent. But it wasn't. It was a portly man, heavy set with grissled brown hair. He wore the uniform of the pilots of interplanetary shuttles, right down to the shiny brown boots and bright blue cap. 

Poppy glanced at Bria. She was paralyzed, afraid. Poppy feared the worst. She grabbed Bria's hand. "Run, hurry," she whispered, push-pulling her out of the way. 

"What? No!" Bria blinked at her. Bria roughly pulled her hand away from Poppy's grasp, turning back to the man. "He's not NEO, Popsicle." Bria hesitated before stepping toward the man, but he held out his arms uncertainly, his face looking bewildered but hopeful. "Bria," his voice broke, barely more than a whisper. "I thought you died."

Bria fell into his embrace, but not before Poppy heard a shaky gasp. 

Poppy was very confused, but her heart couldn't help but warm at the sight even while part of her was screaming that they needed to get out of there as quickly as possible. She wasn't sure who this man was, but he clearly meant Bria no harm. He held her tenderly, stroking her hair as he held her close and murmured soothing words of comfort and worry. 

"I had thought," the man said, still holding Bria gently. "That you had been captured?"

Bria pulled away from the man enough to look at Poppy and back up at him. "No," she said, smiling brighter than Poppy had ever seen her. "Not... no."

The man glanced at Poppy and back at Bria in bewilderment. "You-" His eyes widened as he put the pieces together. His look turned to panic.

Poppy looked around. There were some who had observed the spectacle, but over all people were simply trying to ignore them.

Poppy happened to glance out the window, simultaneously hearing the swish of the shuttle doors opening.

The agent was on the other side of the street, running toward the shuttle port. 

Poppy gave a squeak, made a dash for Bria and whispered hastily. "We need to run. Now."

 Poppy was already forcibly dragging her to the shuttle doors before Bria could form a reply. 

"What? Poppy- No!" Bria yanked her hand out of Poppy's grip. "They'll kill him!" She ran back into the waiting room. 

Poppy heaved an impatient sigh, wanting to yell after her, but also not wanting to draw any more attention to their situation. She watched in horror as Bria stopped only paces away from the turned back of agent Paulson. Poppy quickly ducked behind a group of tourists chatting about their recent visit to the National History Museum. 

Poppy couldn't hear what the agent was saying to the pilot man, but Poppy could tell that they were taking. The pilot man shook his head. Poppy could see from the beads of sweat now appearing on his forehead that the pilot was trying very hard to not look at Bria, not to draw attention to her. 

Poppy willed Bria to move, do  _something,_ anything to get out of sight of the agent. 

Unfortunately, the agent wasn't stupid. 

The world slowed. Poppy could barely breathe. The agent turned, pulling out what looked like a gun. Someone in the station screamed. Bria moved, but the agent was ready for her. He fired slightly off-target, but with the trajectory which Bria was moving, she met the shot in her right arm, just above her elbow. She yelped, tried to pull it out as she stumbled forward, but in mere seconds she was on the ground, moaning softly. 

Poppy could see now, through the leaves of a decorative potted plant. Bria was on the ground. What looked like a tranquilizer dart stuck out of her arm. Poppy breathed. If it was a tranquilizer, then there was still a chance. They would likely take her back to the prison. Poppy could break her out again. 

But then she heard Bria scream. 

The whole waiting area heard it. 

It reverberated off the walls. 

NEO security guards from seemingly nowhere suddenly appeared, grabbing a thrashing Bria under her arms. Poppy watched in horror as she was dragged away, screaming bloody murder. Poppy had never seen such horror. Uncontrollable. Nothing she could do. She had never seen... pain. 

As the agent smirked off, following the guards and Bria, Poppy started to move from her hiding place. 

Maybe it was still a tranquilizer, she hoped weakly. 

The agent turned suddenly. Poppy was still obscured by the group, who were now watching with the rest of those in the waiting area. He held his hands up in a placating gesture. "Nothing to worry about," he said. "NEO business." He pulled out a badge from his jacket and held it open for everyone to see the familiar seven-star symbol of the New Earth Order. "This was an escaped inmate. NEO thanks you all for your cooperation." 

With that, he turned. Poppy made to follow after them, darting out from her hiding place, not particularly caring that people were watching her. 

A heavy hand tried to stop her. Poppy whirled, ready for a fight with her heart thumping wildly in her chest. But it was the pilot. 

He looked empty. His face was morose, devoid of the strange joy Poppy had seen earlier. 

"Don't do it, miss," he said softly. The whole room was listening to them. "It's too late." 

Poppy felt her legs shaking. "It can't be," she said weakly, not really seeing anything but the image in her mind's eye of Bria screaming. "I have.. I have to--." 

"No," he said, putting both hands on her shoulders. "Listen to me. Go home. Wherever home is. Bria is gone." 

Poppy wanted to cry, but the tears wouldn't come. She wanted to fall to the ground, but her muscles were too tense. She wanted to collapse against this stranger, but her mind refused the weakness. 

The man shook her lightly. "C'mon," he said. "Home. Where do you live?" 

"Mars," Poppy said, not really thinking. "Mars. Quire. Andromeda." 

The man was nodding. He began to steer Poppy toward the shuttle gates. "Good. I'll see you home. I'm your pilot." 

Poppy didn't try to resist. Instead, she finally focused on his face. "But-- Bria-." 

His face slackened and his step faltered, but he kept moving. Others were also starting to get over the shock, moving again to whatever location they needed. 

"Bria's dead," he said softly. "That was the anti serum." 

Poppy stumbled, but she was already in the shuttle. The pilot showed her to a seat and helped her get settled in with harness and fastenings, sitting beside her for a moment. 

"She's gone," the pilot said, sounding like he barely believed it himself. 

"It's all my fault," Poppy shuddered. She stared at the empty floor in front of her, resting her head on the harness over her shoulders. "I-- I called her a super. I hadn't thought-- on Mars..."

Poppy felt her throat get tight. She bit her lip and stopped talking. 

"It's not your fault," the pilot said urgently, putting a hand on Poppy's knee. Poppy looked at him. His eyes were red and haunted. "It'll never be your fault. If anything," he lifted his hat to scratch his head, removing the hand from Poppy's knee. "It's mine." 

Poppy didn't understand.

"Bria's my daughter," the pilot explained softly. "She ran away a few years back. Today was the first time I've seen her." 

Poppy's eyes flew open. "Bria's your--." 

He inclined his head sadly. "And the first time I see her?" A sob was wrenched from his throat. But he didn't need to finish his statement. 

For Poppy as well, the tears finally came.

They cried as the cabin filled, passengers filling the seats on either side of the shuttle. The passengers avoided looking at Poppy and the pilot, ignoring their sobs. 

Finally, the pilot regained his composure and Poppy tried to do the same. He held out a hand to her, which Poppy squeezed warmly, tears still streaming down her face. "Jonas," he said, nodding to her. 

"Poppy," Poppy replied. 

~* ~* ~* ~* {O} *~ *~ *~ *~

[PRESENT DAY]

Poppy watched via the security cameras. Paulson was there. To Poppy's surprise, he was casually dressed. She had never seen Paulson not wearing a suit-- well, that's not strictly true. Once, as a surveillance cover, Poppy had posed as an 80-year-old woman and took the apartment next to Paulson's and had seen him in his pinstripe pajamas more than once. But now, in plain trousers and the stupid plaid button downs that every college-aged guy was wearing, Paulson almost passed for a human being. [A/N - I've literally never written Paulson in casual clothes. This is weird.]

Almost.

"Is he trying to be inconspicuous?" Alvin asked, resting his chin on Poppy's shoulder. 

"I think so," Poppy said, flicking through the different security feeds until she found one that showed both Paulson and the terminal exit. The shuttle was due to arrive any minute now. Poppy glanced at her phone sitting dormant in front of her. Tony said he could handle it. She trusted him. 

She turned back to the screen as the doors to the shuttle swooshed open. 

"The doors are open," Alvin pointed at the screen. Poppy glanced at him dryly. 

"Really, Al? I couldn't tell." 

She watched carefully, scanning the few passengers exiting the shuttle. Paulson sat, apparently just your average civilian. She saw Drew exit, bald cap shining in the sun and fake wrinkles giving him the look of someone's elderly parent. He was escorted by Ed who was dressed as a medical assistant. Poppy watched Paulson closely, but Paulson didn't seem to notice. A few last stragglers finally  shuffled through the exit gate, but there was no Tony or Veniamin. 

"Uh--." Alvin started, but Poppy was already scrambling for her phone, shoving it at Alvin. 

He took it and dialed Tony's number without hesitation while Poppy shifted security angles so she could see Paulson more closely. He was standing now, looking again inside the shuttle gates. They closed suddenly, announcing that all passengers had disembarked. Poppy could read his lips and knew he was swearing under his breath. 

"Tony," Alvin was saying behind Poppy. "Where are you? We didn't-- what?" 

Poppy continued to watch Paulson. The NEO agent fidgeted with his plaid shirt and turned his back on the shuttle, shoving his hands in his pocket like the brooding teenager he really was. 

"How the--." Alvin was cut off again by something on the other line. Poppy wasn't terribly concerned. Obviously Tony was alive enough to answer the phone and cut her brother off mid-sentence. Anything else could be dealt with. Poppy already had two theories about Tony's miraculous escape. 

Paulson was walking away from the station, kicking at imaginary loose gravel. He pulled out his phone. And Poppy's heart stopped as she realized who he would be calling. 

Maybe it's Piers, she reasoned. 

"Alvin, is Tony okay?" She asked quickly, watching as Paulson pulled up someone's contact information.  _If only these cameras had better quality._

"Huh? Oh, yeah, he's alright- Veniamin too- they're already in New Hampshire," Alvin said. 

"Good- hang up. Now." 

"Right." he ended the call abruptly just as the phone started to ring again. Her brother blinked. "How did you--" 

Poppy snatched the phone, barely looking at the caller information. "Hey," she said, answering and spinning around in her chair. She winked at her brother. "I'm guessing it didn't work out for you." 

There was a heavy sigh on the other end. Poppy watched in the feed as Paulson paced around the outdoor waiting area. "Can I ask you something?" Paulson said suddenly, sounding frustrated. 

"I didn't interfere, if that's what you were going to ask," Poppy offered with a self-satisfied smile, spinning again in her chair and watching the room spiral around her. 

Paulson sighed discontentedly. Poppy glanced at the security feed. Paulson was still just in view, leaning against the shuttle sign pole "No, that wasn't what I was going to ask," he said. "But that's good to hear. I was going to ask if you knew how all that popcorn got into my suit coat." 

Poppy choked on a breath that quickly turned into a bubble of laughter. She had forgotten about the popcorn incident. That explained the change of clothes. Paulson would be sick of the stale popcorn smell. His suit was undoubtedly being dry cleaned. 

"I thought so," Paulson said, sounding significantly less irritated. As Poppy's laughs began to die down, he spoke again. Poppy watched him in the feed. He started fidgeting agitatedly, rubbing the back of his neck and pulling on the hem of his shirt."Listen, I was wondering, about tonight... would you like to have dinner with me?" 

Poppy blinked, the last of her laughter dying away in her throat. She watched Paulson as he began to pace around again. 

"It's only-- I have to do a report tonight," he added quickly. "I thought it might be-- ugh, better." 

Poppy realized she hadn't answered yet and that Paulson would keep floundering until she said something. "No-- I mean, sure that sounds great! I... I would really like that." Poppy winced. This wasn't good. This was very not good. 

"Really?" Paulson said. Poppy could see him smiling broadly in the video feed. Something strange happened to her heartbeat and she felt a mild heat rise to her face. 

"Yeah," she said, trying to sound a bit hesitant. "What time?"

"Oh- um." Poppy could see from the video feed that Paulson was pacing more animatedly now, his face still beaming. "How about five-thirty? Meet me in the Juniper Colony-- it's in the--."

"Quire cluster, I know," Poppy finished for him, smiling slightly. "I'll meet you there. Five-thirty at the train station?" 

"Yeah-yes," he said as he tripped over the leg of the bench he had been sitting on earlier. 

Poppy chuckled slightly. "You alright there, Paulson?" 

"Uh, yeah," he said breathlessly, giving a short and nervous laugh. "Yeah, I just- ah- tripped." 

Poppy smirked, "Falling for me already, agent? We haven't even had a proper date yet."

Poppy stared in horror at the screen.  _Why did I say that? Why why why why? No no no no no no no--- come back, words, I didn't-- crap. Crap. Crap. Crap._ That had been flirting. That was flirting. She was literally flirting with disaster. Aaaahhh.... Poppy. No. 

She could almost see Paulson having a similar response. His back was to the camera, but Poppy could see the discoloration on the back of his neck. He was blushing redder than the martian soil. 

"Right-," Poppy hurried to pull out of the conversation. "Ah, well, I've got to go. I'll see you later. Bye." 

She hung up without waiting for a response. 

_Ah crap._

"I heard that!" Alvin called from the kitchen down the hall. Poppy hung her head in her hands, pressing the heels of her palms into her eye sockets. 

Slowly, Poppy swung herself out of her chair and down the hall, collapsing on a white barstool that was situated next to their pristine countertop. she slumped forward, pressing her head against the cool white stone. 

"It's not so bad-- that was actually a pretty smooth line," Alvin patted his sister's head in a conciliatory manner. "I might borrow it sometime." 

Poppy lifted her head so her chin was resting on the surface instead. "I can't believe I said that," she grumbled. "That was incredibly stupid." 

Alvin laughed, pulling some potato chips out of a cabinet and eating them straight from the bag. "I mean, yeah," he said through a mouthful. "It probably isn't the best-thought-through plan to flirt with a man who has tried to kill you on a thousand different occasions, but it is what it is." 

Poppy pressed her eyes to her hands again, groaning in frustration. "Paulson," she growled. 

Alvin flicked her forehead. "I hope you've got a plan in that head of yours to get rid of him for good-- we need him as far away from us as possible." 

Poppy glanced at him. She had no plan. She had no idea what she was doing, but looking at her older brother she realized that she really needed to make one. "Of course I have a plan," she lied.

Alvin raised an eyebrow, calling her bluff, but he didn't say anything. He was hoping she really did. He didn't really want to know for certain if she didn't. The implications...no. Poppy would have a plan. She always had a plan.

Poppy left the kitchen and went up the stairs to her bedroom where she promptly collapsed on the bed. As soon as her head hit the pillow, her phone rang with Tony's info popping up cheerily. 

Poppy answered, rolling on to her back. "Are you all okay?" she asked. 

"Yeah," he said, sounding relieved. "We're fine. We took an emergency medical pod-- took us straight to the New Hampshire Colony. I'm with Drew and Ed now. We're on our way back." 

Poppy sighed, only partially in relief at her friend's safety. "That's good. Good job, Tony. Very well done."

Tony didn't respond right away. "Thanks," he said after a moment. Then, after a longer pause, he added, "Are you alright, Pops?" 

"Yeah," Poppy sighed again. "I'm fine-- it was Paulson. It's nothing, really. We'll have to do the briefing tomorrow morning, is that okay with all of you?" 

Tony relayed the question to his comrades. "Yeah, that's okay with us. Did Paulson say something? Did he hurt you?" 

"Hm? Oh, no, nothing like that. I wasn't on-scene," Poppy rubbed her eyes with her free hand. She had the beginnings of a headache starting. "He called me-- anyway, it's really no big deal, I just--."

"Tell me," Tony said firmly. 

Poppy sat up, leaning against the wall behind her bed. "Alright, well. I-- He called about tonight, you know, and I just made some comment about--."

"What did you say?" Tony asked, sounding perplexed. 

"I  _flirted_ ," Poppy admitted with a sigh. "I made a comment about him falling for me-- he had tripped while we were talking." 

"Ah," Tony said, somewhat stiffly. "And you... feel weird about that? You flirt with him all the time on missions?" 

Poppy could hear Drew in the background, " _Oh this is a lot more interesting than I thought it was-- put her on speaker_ _!"_

"No, shove off, Drew," Tony said, probably shoving Drew to the side and falling a few steps behind them so he could talk to Poppy in privacy. To Poppy he said, "Sorry," and waited for her to continue. 

"I know it's no big deal-- it just... it's weird when I'm here, y'know? And I-- it doesn't make him mad, it just makes him flustered," Poppy added. Poppy didn't add that it had a similar effect on herself. 

"Flustered? Paulson?" Tony laughed. "I'd pay money to see that." 

Poppy smiled at her hands that now gripped her paisley printed bedspread. She thought of the last haunting image-- the deep blush rising over the red plaid collar. Her own face grew warm. She laughed nervously. "Yeah," she said, not sure what was an appropriate response to that. "Anyway, I've got to get ready to go. 

"Get some rest," she added earnestly, gaining some emotional control over herself. "All three of you. I'm proud of you all. We'll talk more tomorrow."

"Okay, Poppy," Tony said. "I'll talk to you later. Stay safe, okay?"

"Okay."

Poppy hung up and placed her thin card-like phone onto her bedside table and sighed again. It was going to be an interesting night. 

~* ~* ~* ~* {O} *~ *~ *~ *~

[ROUGHLY FOUR AND A HALF YEARS AGO]

This time, it wasn't Poppy's choice to go to Earth. In fact, Poppy had tried to find a way around it, even attempted to fake an illness until the robotic med-aid had determined her health to be simply 'superior'. 

Poppy was still depressed and bitter. She hated NEO. Jonas had given her his number. Poppy had been partially adopted by him and his wife, June. She would call him when the nightmares got too severe. Sometimes Jonas would be too tired, or he'd be at work, but he would leave the phone on so Poppy could hear his breathing. In this time, Jonas became more than just a brief acquaintance's father. Jonas became Poppy's lifeline. If she felt like she was falling apart, if she felt like she couldn't face life, she would call him and he would be there as much as he possibly could.  

Poppy's parents didn't know. Poppy hadn't even told Alvin about it. Poppy knew they would all worry-- not that Poppy had tried to break a super out of prison, but rather that Poppy had gone against NEO. After all, NEO was the whole reason her parents had relocated to Mars in the first place. 

The nameless agent haunted Poppy's dreams. He would show up, suddenly from out of nowhere, materializing out of darkness with a cold gust of air and a gun that looked deceitfully harmless. Poppy would wake up screaming. 

That was why she didn't want to go to Earth. Never again. She would stay on Mars where the evil couldn't reach her. 

But it was for a grade. 

And mandatory. 

Poppy sat, strapped into the shuttle seat, trying to not throw up as the shuttle made its descent into the Earth's atmosphere. She tried to breathe, reminding herself of the steps she would take to make sure she stayed away from NEO officials. 

Stay with the group. Follow rules. Don't ask questions. Don't look anyone in the eyes if you can possibly avoid it. 

Her plan was thrown to the wind when their instructors told them that as long as they stayed within ten blocks of the hotel, they were free to go where they pleased until that night when they were expected to be at the hotel by curfew. 

So Poppy was faced with two options: stay in the hotel room playing on her phone, or stroll around the streets of NEO city. Neither option seemed particularly appealing. The city would undoubtedly prove dangerous and remind Poppy of Bria. Staying alone inside would likely lead to much of the same. 

So, after claiming a bed in a dingy hotel room, Poppy struck out on her own, determined to stick to the tourist-filled sections of the city. She would run into her classmates occasionally. They would smile or wave, but otherwise ignored her in favor of the next site. It was a marvelous city, Poppy had to admit. It was too warm for her tastes, though. 

Poppy kicked at a rock and took a deep breath. She wished she could call--.

She was an idiot.

She scrambled and pulled out her phone, dialing Jonas' number. He answered. "Poppy," he said brightly. "You just caught me doing my gardening. How are you, sweetheart?" 

Poppy smiled broadly. "Jonas! I'm glad to hear you have the day off-- actually, I'm in NEO city on a school trip. Would you mind if I came by?" 

"Mind?" Jonas repeated, laughing. "I'd be insulted if you didn't!" He gave her his address and Poppy plugged it into her phone's navigation system. It was just outside the ten block parameter, but Poppy didn't care. Poppy hurried there as fast as her feet would take her. 

~* ~* ~* ~* {O} *~ *~ *~ *~

Poppy beat Paulson to the Juniper Colony. She hadn't dressed up any more than usual, but she still found herself feeling self-conscious. The train station in Juniper was similar to the one in Andromeda. The only difference was that where Andromeda had a smell of a university town, something that smelled oddly like cheap noodles, Juniper smelled like a carnival. It smelled like popcorn, cotton candy, and all sorts of fried foods. 

Juniper Colony had been established by the United States, back when the United States existed. Their main export was entertainment. All the famous holo-vids, movies, novels, plays and musicals came from Juniper. It had once been called the "Hollywood of Mars". Her parents had brought Alvin and Poppy there once as kids. Once or twice, Poppy had placed a few theatrically-inclined supers there over the years.

Poppy smiled, breathing deeply. It was like being a kid again. 

Something shot through her heart as someone came up behind her. "Hey." 

Poppy whirled, a little jumpy. It was Paulson, smiling in the fading Martain sunlight. Poppy would have called him handsome. She was surprised that, now, seeing him in person dressed as a normal human being made her almost forget that this was Paulson. 

He held out a hand, obviously intending for her to take it. "Are you ready?" he grinned. 

Poppy took the hand with only a little hesitation. "I sure am, Agent," she smiled. 

He held her hand firmly but gently, leading her toward the north side of Juniper. He shook his head and gestured to his clothes. "No pin, no agent. Tonight it's just Shawn." 

Poppy had to blink several times in quick succession, not quite believing what she was hearing or seeing. Was this all some fever dream? Was she still on that mission in Lima? This was ridiculous. 

Paulson laughed at her reaction. "No, I'm serious," he said. "Please, I've decided I don't like being called Paulson all the time. I'd like someone to try calling me Shawn-- besides the Pimpernel, of course." HE stumbled and his smile turned a bit sour, but he shook his head and erased it, glancing at Poppy with a melancholic smile. 

"You didn't catch him?" Poppy squeezed his hand, feeling an odd sense of concern for Paulson's disappointment. 

"Let's not talk about him," he said, shaking his head. "The first twelve hours after are always the hardest." 

Poppy didn't know that. She filed it away to examine later. "What would you like to talk about then?" she asked, smiling. "The state of the economy?" 

Paulson rolled his eyes. "No, I think I'd like to talk about you," he said. He didn't glance at her, which Poppy found odd in the flow of conversation, but then she noticed the blush creeping up over his collar again. "How's school?" 

"It's good," Poppy said, looking up at the twilight horizon through the outershell of Juniper. She could make out the Andromeda Colony just a bit to the northwest. "Classes aren't terribly difficult, but keeping up with homework is a nightmare." 

"I'd offer to help," Paulson smiled, "but I think I'd be absolutely useless with physics." 

Poppy laughed. Paulson had gotten a double master in Criminal Justice and Pre-Law. She had to agree with him. "That's alright. My brother and his friends help occasionally. We get a group together when we can." 

Paulson hummed in acknowledgment. He began leading her away from the main entertainment district, where all the restaurants were located, and began leading her toward the grassy park where all the movies were shot. Usually, it was closed to the public for movie shoots, but Poppy could see several people already there, milling about in family groups or friend groups, or the occasional love-struck couple. 

Poppy paled visibly at the thought that  _she_ , for all appearances, would seem to be in that last category. She wanted to yank her hand out of Paulson's. He seemed to sense her hesitation and let go of her hand. "We're just over here," he said, pointing to a secluded picnic table. It was already set with a checkered table cloth, a few biodegradable bags, and a heavy-duty camping lantern (standard NEO military issue, Poppy recognized). 

"I thought..." Paulson said in a forced old-British accent. "A picnic." 

Poppy laughed heartily and returned her hand to his, not really caring anymore. 

 

"Bro," Drew hissed, crawling angrily after Tony. " _Bro_. This is  _not_ a good idea." 

"Shut  _up,_ " Tony hissed back. 

They crawled through the foliage, trying to find a place they could sit and hear the conversation. 

"We  _just_ got  _back_ ," Drew protested. "We're supposed to be recuperating, not spying on Poppy's da-ACK." A fistful of leaves swung into Drew's mouth. 

"It's  _not_ a date," Tony grumbled. He could see Poppy leaning across the table from Paulson-- dressed like every other guy on Mars-- and she seemed to be smiling. 

" _Tony_ ," Drew insisted. "Look, man, I get it, but--." 

"No, you  _don't_ ," he barely glanced back at Drew. "She needs our help, Drew, whether or not she wants to admit it." 

"Bro, you're jealous," Drew pointed out, wiping dirt off his hands as he continued to crawl on all fours. "Just let her be- she can handle herself." 

Tony didn't answer. Poppy's voice finally wafted over them and he stopped, crouching low. 

"... and then his  _face_ ," Poppy said, laughing uncontrollably.

"But he didn't really say that, did he?" Paulson asked, incredulous, a chopstick pinch full of Chinese takeout halfway to his mouth. 

"No, he did," Poppy nodded, still laughing. 

"Your friends," Paulson shook his head smiling. "They really are something, aren't they?" 

"What about you?" Poppy asked, stealing noodles from Paulson's container despite her own container directly in front of her. "What do you do when you're not all agent-y?" 

Paulson stretched back, smiling. "Ah, well, never really off duty, you know?" 

Poppy's back was to them, unfortunately, so the boys couldn't see the face she pulled, but whatever it was made Paulson laugh. "What do you want me to say?" Paulson asked, chuckling slightly. "As you've already pointed out, my life revolves around the Pimpernel." 

"And what a sad existence that is," Tony grumbled.

"Besides looking for him, there's not much that I do, or have the time to do," Paulson admitted. 

"Then tell me about him," Poppy said, leaning forward. 

Drew gagged. "Ugh, Pops, really?" 

Paulson laughed at her eagerness. "Tell you about the Pimpernel? You do realize it's not standard procedure to discuss an ongoing case, right?" 

"As if all of Mars doesn't already follow him more than [insert name equivalent of the Kardashians]," Poppy scoffed. 

Paulson laughed. "That's fair. Alright, I can share a few things. It's mostly common knowledge at this point anyway."

He leaned forward, resting his arms on the table. Tony had to strain to hear their conversation. "We know he's from Mars," he said, raising his eyebrows. 

" _Really_ ," Poppy said, cupping her chin in a hand. "Fascinating." 

"You asked," Paulson pointed out. Poppy stared at him, clearly waiting. 

"I mean, come on," Drew grumbled. "It's not like he can tell her anything she doesn't already know." 

Something in Paulson's face changed mildly. He sighed. "Alright," he said. He leaned back, looking up at the darkening sky. "We know he's young- probably twenty-five or thereabouts. He 's most likely a super himself--."

"He shouldn't know that," Drew said, his eyes widening. 

"-and his team is likely only a dozen men at most," Paulson finished. 

There was silence from the boys in the bushes. They glanced at each other apprehensively and suddenly realized that the whole situation was a lot more serious than they had previously considered. General news articles blew up the Pimpernel's team to about three dozen men and women. The team did their best to encourage those rumors, always bluffing that they had more backup than they really did. Paulson had known? Since when?

Poppy, on the other hand, laughed. "No," she said, shaking her head. "There's no way he could do all he does with only twelve guys." 

Paulson nodded, ignoring her laughter. He smiled languidly, resting his face on a fist. "It's true," he said, a certain expression that Tony didn't understand on his face. "Too big of a group and we'd be able to get a mole in there, but with the tight-knit group he's got there's not a chance in the world." 

"Darn right," Tony muttered. "So why don't you just slither back to--."

Poppy stood suddenly. "Let's walk," she suggested. "If you've got the time?" Tony was glad he couldn't see her face. Her tone had that coquettish lilt that made his heart race and the thought of her using that tone with another man-- Paulson especially-- made his blood boil with jealousy. 

"Sure," Paulson said, gathering up their recyclables. "Let me dump these." 

As soon as he was a reasonable distance away, Poppy rounded on the bushes, glaring directly at Tony and Ed. Her eyebrows were set in fine lines and her eyes blazed with anger. "Go. Home." she told them solidly. 

Paulson was back and Poppy's expression cleared before he saw it. "You ready?" he asked. 

She linked his arm through his, not glancing back at the mortified boys in the bushes. "Always." 

~* ~* ~* ~* {O} *~ *~ *~ *~

Poppy stayed at Jonas' the whole day. She helped him with his gardening and helped to cook dinner for the three of them. They swapped stories, laughed, joked, and altogether just enjoyed each other's company. 

Until there was a heavy knock on the door. 

Jonas blinked at his wife. "Were you expecting anyone?" he asked. 

June, a thin woman with raven hair and a perpetually melancholic air, shook her head. 

The knock sounded again. "Jonas Smith," a loud voice said. "Open up in the name of the New Earth Order." 

All three eyes froze, staring at each other. "Hide," Jonas said to Poppy. She glanced around at Jonas' small home. She saw their hide-a-bed couch and got an idea. She shoved herself under the cushions, June replacing them carefully and then sitting on top of them. 

The knock came again before June was finished, but as soon as it was safe, Jonas opened the door. Poppy couldn't hear anything but her own beating heart and couldn't feel anything but the gentle pressure of the cushions. She could hear the tones of someone talking, arguing. More voices. At least three. Poppy thought she knew which one was Jonas' but she couldn't be sure. The air in the couch began to grow stale and Poppy felt something crawl across her leg. 

The unfortunate thing about reality is that, unlike in fiction, you can't time lapse. There's no speeding clock to show the passage of time. Each second is just as long as the last and as time goes on, the more uncertain a person can get. For Poppy, she just wanted to know that it was safe to come out. She wanted to know that Jonas had dealt with the problem. 

But time speeds for no man. Or woman. 

It felt like hours later, but Poppy heard the door slam. She imagined that either June or Jonas would come to lift the cushion off of her, telling her that the coast was clear. 

Her heart began to beat faster as she realized that no one was coming. 

 _Not again_ , her head screamed. 

~* ~* ~* ~* {O} *~ *~ *~ *~

 Alvin was home when Drew and Tony came slouching through the front door. It wasn't unusual for them to treat Alvin and Popp's home like their own. What  _was_ unusual was the fact that both Tony and Drew were covered in grass stains, smelled like a merry-go-round, and had leaves caught in their hair. Alvin didn't need to be a super to put two and two together. 

"That was really stupid, guys," he said, turning back to his phone as he scrolled through recent articles on the Pimpernel. 

They collapsed on the ground, knowing Poppy's rule about dirt on the couches. "It was Tony's idea, man," Drew said, holding his hands up. 

"I don't care," Alvin responded, raising his eyebrows, but not looking at them. "It was stupid." 

 "I don't like it," Tony grumbled, staring at the ceiling. 

"What don't you like?" Alvin asked, still not paying attention and hoping to dissuade them from the conversation. "That Poppy told you to go home or that Poppy's on a date with Paulson?" 

Tony grumbled something under his breath that not even Drew caught. 

"What was that?" Drew asked. 

"I said," Tony repeated, getting to his feet agitatedly. "That if he touches her again, I'm going to punch him." He moved to leave, but Alvin had finally looked up with an expression of concern. 

"He touched her?" Al asked quietly. 

There was a pause where Tony didn't speak, only glared at the wall above Al's head. Drew finally spoke up, serious for once. "Barely," he said, sighing. "And  _Poppy_ initiated it, Tony, so chill." The blond didn't respond. To Alvin, Drew continued. "They did that arm think-- whaddyacallit-- y'know, like the wizard of oz?"

"They linked arms," Tony said through gritted teeth.

Alvin breathed, placated. He hadn't thought about Paulson attempting anything untoward with Poppy. He knew Poppy could and would handle herself. He had seen her knock him unconscious on more than one occasion. He trusted her. If she needed help, she would call. 

~* ~* ~* ~* {O} *~ *~ *~ *~ 

It wasn't the kind of help that Poppy could call for, but she wanted to call for help. 

But every time he looked at her, she felt her defenses slipping step by step. 

They leaned against the observation deck in the Johnston Colony Space Needle. They had crossed into the next colony over on their walk, admiring the view of the Martian Sunset. They just talked. Conversed about anything besides the pimpernel. Books, authors, ideas, things, people, events. Any topic that came up flowed just as easily as the last. She knew a great deal about Paulson. She knew the things that made him angry, the things that threw him off-balance. She didn't know the things that made him happy. It was new. It was nice.

Poppy unashamedly watched him as he watched the colony below them. Lights were beginning to flicker on and soft music played from some distant corner. The lavender night felt magical. The familiar constellations continued to shine, mixing seamlessly with the reflections of the night skyline in the dark glass of the colony dome. Paulson's profile-- his whole face-- was more content than Poppy had ever seen it. 

"What are you thinking about?" Poppy asked, nudging  him with her shoulder.

He glanced at her, smiling and turning his gaze back to the city. "I was wondering if I prefer Mars because it's a novelty or if I prefer it due to the company."

"Ah," Poppy sighed. She watched as lavender began fading into indigo. "But Earth has blue skies," Poppy pointed out, "and birds. And the sun is so  _big_ there." 

Paulson nodded with a dreamy expression. "Yeah," he said. Then his face grew puzzled. "I didn't know you've been to Earth."

"Well, yeah," Poppy shrugged. "Of course I have-- it was required for my beginning sociology course." 

"Ah," Paulson let that answer slide. They continued to watch the sun set, the world now dyed a deep purple. Lights flickered on and people became more shadows and silhouettes than faces. Unconsciously, Poppy found herself leaning closer to Paulson. 

"This is probably by far the best date I've ever had," Paulson commented, looking down at her. 

Poppy's smile turned teasing. "A date? Is that what this is? I thought I was helping you avoid your report."

 

"That's true," Paulson  chuckled, leaning closer to her as well. "Piers will just have to wait another day for her daily disappointment."

"Daily disappointment?" Poppy repeated, trying to hide a smile. "What are you talking about."

"Well, y'know," Paulson shrugged. "I haven't managed to catch him yet."

Poppy's smile broke free, but Paulson didn't see it. "Do you really think you will?" She asked, when the grin had faded.

Paulson nodded slowly, looking back at her. He straightened before he spoke, only glancing at her. "I will catch him if its the last thing I do. I'll keep trying until he kills me." 

Well, Poppy thought, that escalated quickly. 

Poppy felt her eyes grow wide. It was no different than any conversation they'd had as Pimpernel and Paulson. She knew his devotion to the cause. It was different to hear it spoken quietly on the observation deck of the Johnston Space Needle than to hear it yelled across the emptiness of an abandoned warehouse on the brink of structural collapse. But that wasn't what really bothered her. What bothered her was the fact that after all their years of cat-and-mouse, Paulson seemed to believe that the pimpernel was capable of killing.

"You don't think he'd really kill you, do you?" Poppy asked quietly. 

He held her gaze for a moment, trying to read something there. Poppy had the lucky advantage of having spent years reading Paulson's expressions. He had only known her for a week. He was trying to see if she knew something. He was half-despairing, half-hoping she did. 

Slowly, he shook his head and looked back out at the mars-bound stars in the city below. "No. I don't think he would kill me. I don't think he could. For all I know of him, I don't think he likes murder very much. But if he wants to stop me from catching him and ending him, he'll have to kill me first." 

 _Y'know,_ a snarky part of Poppy's brain said,  _murder probably isn't the great_ _est first-date conversation topic._

"And you're no stranger to murder, unfortunately," Poppy said, quietly. It didn't sound angry, and Paulson understood that. Her voice sounded... wistful.

"No, I'm not," Paulson admitted slowly with a long sigh. 

They both lapsed into the first uneasy silence of the night. Poppy wondered if she should say something else or make her excuses. She wasn't comfortable, but at the same time--.

"Do you want to leave?" Paulson asked quietly, not looking at her. Poppy watched the back of his head. He didn't turn. He didn't pressure. She could leave and he would leave it at that. She could get on with her life. She could plan the mission to salem, get the briefng on Fortine, and be the Pimpernel she wanted to be. 

But.

Something... something was changing. Paulson reminded Poppy that she was human. That she was a girl- a woman. He was evil. She knew. Reasons chased reasons around her head at a lightning pace. Yes and No. Paulson and _Paulson_. Poppy could leave. She should leave. Logic dictated that her best course of action in order to defeat NEO and allow a kinder government to take its place would be to leave. Right now. Tell Paulson she was uncomfortable. And run. 

"Why do you kill them?" Poppy asked. It wasn't a challenge. It was an inquiry. 

He looked at her, an inscrutable surprise etched across his features. He had likely come to the same conclusion she had. She should leave. But she wasn't leaving. 

"To protect Earth," he replied, in the same tone. 

"And that doesn't bother you? To decide who lives and who dies? You can see that they're still people, can't you?" 

He sighed. "To be honest, there are days I can't. Maybe I've only seen the cruel side of supers. All the same," he held her gaze and Poppy felt that strange magnetism that she had felt on the train between Midas and Andromeda. "We don't have the time to give them a chance. If we do, it could be too late and we will not risk the lives of any more civilians." 

"But what about the supers who don't have a choice? The ones who never chose to be superior. The ones who live thinking they're evil because this was forced on them?"

His eyebrows knit together. "I don't understand-- do you mean the ones who might have been forced to take the serum against their will?" 

"Them," Poppy admitted off-handedly. There were others. Another group Paulson might not even know about yet, but Poppy couldn't bring them up without outing her outing herself in the process.

"I don't know," he admitted, glancing away to the city below them. Night had fully fallen. Music was playing on the other side of the observation deck. 

"Then why not give them a chance?"

"Katie," he said suddenly. He seemed surprised at his own voice. 

Poppy was surprised, too. He never talked about her. Ever. Poppy had found out by accident-- stumbling through some old newspapers. She hadn't even told her team yet. She didn't want them to use it against him. It wouldn't be fair. 

"Kaite?" Poppy asked gently. 

Paulson nodded, looking away from her. "My-- my sister," he said. 

Poppy stepped toward him on an empathetic impulse and took his hand in hers. If he was surprised by the contact, his face didn't show it. "She raised me," he continued. "My parents died when I was two, she was ten. I don't remember them, to be honest. Katie always told me they were the best kind of people. I like to think they were." He smiled sadly down at the girl now hanging on his arm, not really seeing her. "Katie helped me get through school. We lived on the streets for a little while when she turned fifteen and they tried to separate us. I saw, first-hand, some of the atrocities that supers committed.

"When she was sixteen she was able to get a job. We found a dingy studio apartment in NEO City. I was about ten or so." 

Poppy saw the emotion on Paulson's face. She knew what had happened. She felt her throat tighten as well. 

"I came home from school-- they-- she--" With the hand that wasn't entwined with Poppy's, he rubbed his eyes that looked like they stung. 

Poppy squeezed his hand gently. In case you're wondering, dear reader; yes, it crossed her mind that she was comforting the very man who wished to destroy her. Just because they hated each other didn't mean they couldn't be kind. 

"She was dead," Paulson finally managed, his voice weak. 

Poppy internalized a string of curse words and pulled Paulson into a hug. He stiffened at first, but then relaxed and hugged her back. Poppy didn't say she was sorry. She didn't try to sympathize. After all, she had her brother, her parents, and her friends. Paulson only had his job and the Pimpernel. 

"Tell me about Katie," Poppy prompted, pulling out of the hug, but still claiming his hand. "What was she like?" 

Paulson's expression was something like surprise and amusement mixed with something like contentment. An electric clock tower somewhere in down started chiming the hour.  "I hope you've got time," Paulson said gently, "this'll probably take all night." 

~* ~* ~* ~* {O} *~ *~ *~ *~

Piers tapped her nails slowly on her desk.  _Tap-Tap-Tap-Tap... Tap-Tap-Tap-Tap_. Paulson hadn't reported yet. Nothing. 

This was unacceptable. 

Piers dialed Paulson's phone. It went straight to his voice mail.  _Tap-tap-tap-tap... tap-tap-tap-tap_. Maybe sending him to Mars had been a bad idea. Too many locals. Too much anti-NEO propaganda. But the boy was reliable. 

She needed that report. 

He would get it to her by the next morning or Piers would be on a shuttle to drag it out of him herself. 

Piers distracted herself by unanimously ignoring all files in her inbox that had anything to do with Super Rights and unanimously approving all those that allowed for more intense measures to be taken in the capture of supers. Being a President is simple, she decided, smirking at her reflection in the dark glass above her desktop. You just choose who you want to serve and destroy the rest. 

Simple.

~* ~* ~* ~* {O} *~ *~ *~ *~

 Alvin had sent Tony and Drew home after a few hours, telling them to get some rest before their meeting the next morning. He smiled gently as he waved them out the front door. Upon closing the door, Alvin grabbed reflexively for his phone. 

Poppy still hadn't made contact with him yet. They had a contingency plan for the worst-case scenario, obviously, that involved Al coming to Poppy's rescue. It had been only if Al didn't hear from Poppy until the next morning. By then it could be too late. 

Alvin slid down the wall adjacent to the door. Through the thin side windows beside the doorframe, Alvin would have a reflected view of his own home's interior instead of the darkened street outside. He pressed the cool glass of his phone to his forehead, closing his eyes tightly.  _She'll be fine_ , he thought to himself.  _She's the Pimpernel. She can go on a date. She'll be fine._

It didn't stop him from worrying. 

He bit his lip and his foot began twitching. How long had it been since he last checked the time? He glanced at the time on his phone. Barely thirty seconds. Shouldn't Poppy have called by now? 

Several agonizing moments of anxiety later, Alvin heard the Andromeda train come in from its last run of the day. The train wasn't too far away. He could hear the faint metalic  _shling_ of the train stopping quietly on the other side of the avenue. 

He scrambled to his feet and hurried to the basement. Poppy had told him to not be at the door. That didn't mean her over-anxious older brother couldn't be watching from their security station. Naturally they had cameras that focused on the front doorstep and the road just before it. 

He watched as their feet grew legs and the legs grew torsos. Their hands were intwined, Alvin noticed. Had Poppy initiated that? Was she okay with that?

They reached the doorstep, still hand-in-hand. Poppy was smiling, but as she glanced at the front door, the smile turned wistful. Naturally, Alvin didn't have sound. But he was pretty good at reading lips. 

"I'm sorry you have to go," she seemed to be admitting, smiling softly up at the tall agent. 

"Me too," Paulson admitted with a sigh. He hesitated a moment before blurting, "Are-- I mean, could we... do this again...? Sometime, I mean?" 

Poppy's smile was tight, but it was still genuine and warm. "I think so," she said. Then she jabbed a finger at his chest. "But I do have school. Don't you forget that." 

The agent laughed, his eyes crinkling. "I won't," he promised. 

On an impulse that set Alvin's teeth on edge, Paulson pulled Poppy into a tight embrace. Poppy hugged him back, her eyes closed. Their height difference was absolutely laughable. Paulson let her go, keeping his hands on her forearms. "Thank you, Poppy," he said, smiling sincerely. "Thank you for everything. And I-- ." Whatever he was going to say, he stopped suddenly, his expression frozen. His hands dropped as his quiet joy was replaced with quiet melancholy. 

Poppy saw it. Alvin saw a brief struggle on her face until she reached up tentatively to put a hand on the side of his face. "Shawn," she said, her mouth forming his name deliberately. "I know. It's... It is what it is." 

He leaned his head into her palm, closing his eyes for a moment. Poppy's thumb stroked against his cheek. Alvin wanted to gag in either disgust or surprise. Paulson's eyes opened and Poppy's hand dropped. They just stared at each other for a long moment. Alvin had legitimately no idea what was going on. If he didn't know better, he would have assumed that someone had frozen the camera, but Poppy didn't have-- she wouldn't-- Alvin scratched his head, hoping he wouldn't have to cross-examine his sister. 

But no. They were moving now. Poppy stepped forward to hold Paulson one last time. He, surprised at first, eventually buried his face in her hair. Poppy pulled away just enough that she could see his face, but not far enough away that either of them had let go yet. 

 _Dangflabit, Paulson, let go of my sister_ , Alvin screamed internally. 

Their heads were inclined toward each other and Alvin felt a sinking sensation in the pit of his stomach.  _They were going to kiss_. 

Surprisingly, it was Paulson who stepped back first, having come to the same conclusion that Alvin had. That conclusion being that kissing would be a very bad idea."I should get going," he said, his mouth barely moving as his arms dropped from around her. 

"Okay," Poppy responded, having also let go. 

Paulson, despite his words, wasn't moving. 

A small smile flicked across Poppy's face. She stood on tip toes suddenly, pressing her lips to Paulson's cheek. "Good night," she said, and Alvin didn't miss the wink she gave him as she ducked in the front door. 

Alvin scrambled away from the security monitors, determined to not be caught spying on his sister this time, but with an intense _thud_ , Poppy was standing in the doorway to the basement. She did a front hand-spring down the stairs, using Alvin's shoulders as a spring board, twisting gracefully mid-air on the last jump so she faced her brother with a smirk that only contained half her usual sass. "As if I didn't know you'd be watching," she said, cocking her head playfully. She turned to the monitors hurriedly. 

Alvin followed behind her, but Paulson was already lost from view. 

Poppy sat back into the chair that Alvin had just barely vacated, exhaling slowly. 

"He's gone," Alvin noted. He expected her to turn to him with that same dead-pan expression she usually wore when he stated the obvious. 

When she didn't and instead sat focused, staring at the screen, Alvin tried to frame a question for the thoughts flittering through his mind.

"Are you--." 

Poppy stood brusquely (Alvin realized that she had forgotten he was there), and strode out of the room. "We're not talking about this right now, Al. Good night."  

 ~* ~* ~* ~* {O} *~ *~ *~ *~

[LESS THAN FIVE ISH YEARS AGO]

As soon as Poppy realized that Jonas and June had been taken, she found her world collapsing again. 

She hadn't intended to become involved in.... in all this. 

But she sure as heck wasn't going to let one more person die because of her. 

 

Finding Jonas and his wife was easy. 

Breaking them out was tricky.

Getting away unseen was so easy, Poppy thought she might like to do it more often. 

 

Paulson's fury at discovering two more lost prisoners knew no bounds. It burned white-hot. 

His only clue was a scrap of paper with a poorly drawn red flower left in the cell as if it had been dropped by one of the escapees. 

Paulson swore that day. He vowed that he would never again let someone slip through his fingers.

 _Especially,_ he thought as he ground his teeth,  _to an imbecile who leaves drawings of flowers at crime scenes._

~* ~* ~* ~* {O} *~ *~ *~ *~

Poppy stared up at her ceiling remembering her promise.

Never again. Not if she had anything to do with it. 

Never. No matter what. 

_~~When this is over,~~ _ ~~she told herself. _When this is over..._~~

 

The Pimpernel began to plot. 

~* ~* ~* ~* {O} *~ *~ *~ *~

Piers received her report the next morning from Agent Paulson. 

He reported a success. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> In case you're wondering the team has codenames used on missions. Drew came up with most of them. They switch up every now and again, but currently stand as described below.   
> Alvin tried to think of a clever and slightly derogatory name for Drew. But unfortunately all we got is "Dude".   
> So,   
> Pretty Boy = Poppy (When she's on the mission. When she's not they'll openly refer to her as the Pimpernel)  
> BB = Alvin (Big Brother)  
> Blondie = Tony  
> Bread = Ed (bro + ed)  
> Dude = Drew


	5. Betwixt and Between

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> PREVIOUSLY ON POPPY: Date with Paulson, he reports a success to his superior.  
> CURRENTLY: I really wanted to tell how the guys got dragged into this.   
> Also a few plot devices. Stuff in the background, y'know?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter seems to have no direction  
> and it's true.  
> it has no direction what so ever.  
> It's had so many different titles: Turning Tables, United, and now Betwixt and Between.  
> BUT HERE YA GO SPACEFARM. NOW GO TO BED.  
> more legit plot to follow  
> y'know, hopefully.

 

_But if he wants to stop me from catching him and ending him, he'll have to kill me first._

She hadn't told the team about Paulson's report to Piers. In fact, she tried to avoid the subject of Friday night all together. But she knew she couldn't avoid the repercussions forever. She needed to plan the Salem expedition. She needed to make sure that even if Paulson suspected her, that her friends would still be kept out of harms way. 

_He'll have to kill me first._

~~Could Poppy do that? Was she willing to _kill_ to protect her friends?~~ No. She couldn't-- she wouldn't. She'd never kill someone. 

Even if that someone was Paulson. 

~* ~* ~* ~* {O} *~ *~ *~ *~

Piers stood at her desk, facing the window pensively. With the sudden advancement in the Pimpernel case, Piers would have to move up her timetable. 

She pressed the conference call button. 

She knew they would answer. The Council never kept her waiting for long. 

~* ~* ~* ~* {O} *~ *~ *~ *~ 

 [ABOUT FOUR YEARS AGO]

Poppy felt her heart thudding loudly in her chest. Her breathing was ragged. The air beneath the musty mattress was suffocating her, but it was either that or risk being shot at. She squeezed her eyes shut, hoping the young boy curled up beside her wouldn't notice. Never again, she thought, never again. She'd tried. She'd had her run. She would get this boy to safety and then never return to Earth ever again. Heavy footsteps still paced back and forth in the room. 

Step.....step.......step......step

They were a distance away, but still too close for Poppy to be sure that she could escape with the boy now clinging to her side, sobbing quietly. 

"Should we gas the room, sir?" a woman's voice said. 

"Of course not," Poppy recognized the voice of the tall agent and her breath caught again. "Don't be an idiot-- they're supers. If anything, we'll burn it to the ground." 

The boy turned his head with wide blue eyes to look up at Poppy, fear evident. Poppy tried to seem calm and reassuring. She smiled and winked once at him, turning to watch the black shoes of the tall man and his soldiers.

"Just give us the order, sir," the woman replied, sounding sufficiently abashed. "I don't think we'll find the supers anytime soon." 

"Oh?" The man's voice was soft but dangerous. "Then why is it that no one has thought to  _look beneath the beds_." The sound of a mattress being tossed roughly to the side made Poppy jump. The boy whimpered. More furniture was tossed. Poppy caught herself wondering how much weight it would take for the rotten wood floor beneath them to crack and break through to the ground floor. She glanced toward the solitary window she could see, the moth-eaten curtains hanging loosely from a broken curtain rod. 

Her eyes widened as the plan blinked into her mind. 

"Hang on to me tight," Poppy breathed to the boy. 

"Did you hear that?" the man's voice snapped. Footsteps started running into the room where she and the boy lay concealed. 

Poppy turned, pulling the boy gently onto her stomach with one arm. He clung to her, wrapping his arms and legs around her waist and burying his face into her shirt. His tiny, quivering form secure, Poppy placed her knees and hands on the bottom of the bedframe and prayed that this would work. Just as the steps came to the bed Poppy hid beneath, Poppy lifted the bedframe up-

and  _slammed_ it down with as much force as she could muster. 

For a second Poppy feared that nothing had happened but a resounding  _crack_. 

Then the floor fell out beneath her and she began to fall. Wood, shrapnel, and splinters flew upward. Poppy clung to the boy, hoping to absorb as much of the impact as she could, but the floor came much sooner than she thought and the air was forcibly ejected from her lungs. But she had to be on her feet. She scrambled, still trying to breathe. The boy seemed paralyzed, arms and legs frozen against her. Poppy carried him as she ran away from the sound of gunfire. 

~* ~* ~* ~* {O} *~ *~ *~ *~

[PRESENT DAY]

 _Mr. Stone,_ Tony began.  _I apologize for my extended absence from class this week. My great-aunt Verity passed away in NEO territory 59 and I was asked to be a casket bearer._ It was the same excuse he was using for every class. It wasn't even a new excuse. His great-aunt Verity had died about once a year since Tony had joined the league of the Scarlet Pimpernel. 

He had already received a response from his engineering professor that said only:  _Yes, of course. Ms. Boor has all the assignments you missed. Good work, Mr. D'Urso._

Tony felt a smile tug at the corners of his mouth. He'd been taking classes from many of the same professors over the years. They never mentioned their suspicions, no one ever did, but sometimes when someone (usually Tony's twin sister, Tina) brought up the Pimpernel's exploits, Tony would find himself on the receiving end of kind, adorative expressions from teachers and classmates. 

It wasn't like they could ignore the fact that almost everytime Tony disappeared for a week, there would be a report on the Pimpernel. It was worse for those who also shared classes with Drew, Ed, Alvin, or Poppy. 

Poppy not so much, Tony thought, smiling as she crossed his mind. She managed to keep things separate. She had a solid excuse in place and never acted like anything was abnormal besides the amount of homework she had to do. No one ever suspected her of illicit activities. 

Tony kept smiling as he wrote his messages to his professors until the images from Friday night flashed through his mind again. Poppy, leaning toward Paulson. Poppy, linking arms with a man who had tried to kill her and everyone she cared about. Poppy, laughing with a murderer. 

His fingers paused over the illuminated keyboard currently smudged with his fingerprints. 

Poppy wouldn't actually lose her objectivity. She wouldn't enjoy an evening with Paulson. Of all of them, Poppy hated Paulson most, right? 

Tony stood up from his desk. He didn't want to think about it. He'd rather think about literally anything else. 

Soon enough, Tony found himself wandering out into the afternoon sunshine outside the dorm room he shared with Drew. He passed Ed with a "hey" as he exited the campus grounds, wandering around with no place in particular he wanted to go. 

He found himself walking along the inner perimeter of the colony, along the railing that stood only a meter away from the thick dome that protected them from the harsh martian terrain. He nodded at people he knew and even at a few he didn't. It seemed a nice night for people to be together. A sense of wistfulness washed over Tony and he found himself thinking of Poppy again. Maybe he'd invite her out. After all, if Shawn Paulson could do it, why couldn't Tony? Tony redirected his feet toward the Boor sibling's home. He would do it. Today. 

He was passing by their front window when he heard Poppy's voice, obviously talking to someone on her phone. 

"... I'd rather watch him burn right now," Poppy was saying with a venom Tony rarely heard her use. Tony assumed she was talking about Paulson.

"I know what you said," Poppy was saying with a sigh. "But--." 

Whoever was on the other end cut her off. That limited the list to three people: Jonas, Dr. Boor, or Poppy's mom.

"No!" Poppy said, sounding horrified. "I mean, of course, I wouldn't! He-- No, I--." she didn't seem capable of finishing a sentence. Then she let go of a long breath. "I let down my guard too much. I told you this would explode in our faces." 

Whatever the other person said made Poppy chuckle. It must be Jonas, Tony decided.

"No," Poppy's chuckle died into a sigh. "No, that doesn't need to come up. The real question is whether I tell them before or after Salem. I think before." 

Jonas must have agreed because Poppy then said: "Alright. I'll do that. Thank you, Jonas. I-- what?" 

Jonas must have said something to stop her from hanging up. Poppy's voice turned soft, wistful. "No, Jo." Despite the softness, her tone was firm and unyielding. 

She chuckled at something Jonas must have said. Tony listened intently. "That's not going to happen," Poppy affirmed. "It won't change how he sees me or supers in general. I-- No, I'm certain." she gave a sarcastic laugh. "Ha... no. Definitely not. Tony's already-- it's none of their concern! I shouldn't-- it has no bearing on the matter, Jonas." 

Poppy was silent for several long moments. Tony wondered if she had hung up and if he should approach now. He wasn't sure exactly what Poppy had been talking about, but he was determined to find out. 

Just as Tony was finally about to move from the street where he had frozen toward the steps up to Poppy's door, he heard her voice again. 

"No," Poppy said quietly, sounding subdued. "I didn't know that. Bria hadn't told me much about... about anything if I'm being honest." 

She was silent again for a long moment. Tony counted his breaths. He had heard about Bria. On a duo mission back about three or four years ago they'd gotten to talking during a stakeout. Tony's mind flew back to that time when he had been so infatuated with the idea of this girl who was a legitimate superhero. She had seemed so confident, so perfect and flawless. He'd grown out of that, of course. He knew Poppy had flaws. He couldn't think of them at the moment, but he knew she had them. 

"I don't know if that's what I would call it, Jo, but I'll think about it, okay?" Poppy's voice drew him out of his reverie. "I will. You, too. Good night." 

Tony heard her sigh. He wanted to give her a moment before interrupting her thoughts. Poppy always had a lot to think about after a talk with Jonas. 

"Tony." 

Tony's head snapped to the window to see Poppy leaning out of it, pursing her lips in a tight exasperated smile. When she met his eye, she raised an eyebrow. 

"Are you going to stand out there all night?" 

 

Several minutes later, Tony found himself sitting on the couch adjacent to Poppy, watching pink light dance through her hair. 

"How much did you glean?" Poppy asked, smirking from her slouched position on the couch. 

Tony blinked, but shrugged. "Not much. Something about Paulson, I think? And telling us something? Or him something? I don't know," he admitted. "We don't have to talk about it if you don't want to."

"Well," Poppy smiled at the phone she flipped idly in her hands. "There is something I'll need to tell you all, but it can wait until everyone is together. It's... it's not terribly important." she sighed. 

Tony poked Poppy's foot. "Not important?" he repeated. 

"It can wait," Poppy corrected, rolling her eyes and standing up to stretch for a moment. "Right now I need to stretch my legs-- you have plans?" 

"Never," Tony grinned, standing up eagerly. 

~* ~* ~* ~* {O} *~ *~ *~ *~

[LESS THAN FOUR YEARS AGO BUT MORE THAN THREE YEARS AGO]

Alvin heard the door open. Relief churned violently with the irritation he directed toward his sister. It had been  _three days_. Three days without any word from her. He had notified campus authorities, but they said there was nothing they could do. She had sent emails to her instructors to explain her absenses. They assumed that she had just moved out without telling her brother. 

But the door had just opened. Alvin jumped off the couch and marched angrily toward the front door. "Poppy where the  _he_ \--," the sound that would have determined swearing versus not swearing was swallowed up by empty space when Alvin saw his little sister's bruised body nearly collapse toward the carpet. 

Alvin's quick reflexes caught her, gently lifting her princess-style and carrying her toward her bedroom, too shocked to say anything. 

He didn't find his voice until Poppy mumbled something like, "So I really would have to be dying for you to help me out around the house."

"Where were you?" Alvin asked, crouching by her bedside. She had wood and dirt and what looked suspicously like blood in her hair. Her face had pink scratch lines that also covered what exposed skin there was on her arms and legs. "What happened?" He noticed a deep bruise encircling the whole of her wrist. 

"Who-- What?" He shook his head and stood quickly. Care first, answers second. "I'll get some ice. Don't hurt yourself further." 

He hurried to grab the med kit and a bag of frozen vegetables. He started tending to his sister's wounds gently. He didn't know the first thing about first aid and found himself consulting the Net more than once for cuts that seemed particularly deep. 

When he finished, Poppy was asleep. He wasn't sure if he should let her sleep or not, but he decided that sleep might actually be the best remedy.

He took the med kit downstairs to the kitchen and tried to breathe normally, leaning against the coutnertop.

A sudden news alert from the room where he had left the holoscreen projector still running made him blink. He slowly made his way to the sitting room in a daze, the voice of the announcer wafting over him.

"This just in from Earth," the rather plastic-looking woman said, sitting behind a sleek desk with surveillance footage floating behind her. "A small collection of supers have  _escaped_ from the New Canadian SuperMax prison. A report coming in from NEO now." 

The holoscreen shifted to a view of a Martian reporter standing alongside a guy in his early twenties. His suit coat glinted with the hint of his NEO pin. "Is it true, Officer Paulson?" 

THe young man offered a condescending smile. "Yes, a number of our less-protected supers escaped, but we're already on the tail of the culprit." 

"The culprit?" the reporter repeated. "Are you saying there was outside help? 

The guy's expression darkened. "I said nothing of the kind. I have no more comments." He shoved his hands in his trouser pockets, turning ot leave, but a little scrap of paper fell to the ground. He noticed it in horror as the reporter bent out of frame to pick it up. "Officer, you dropped thi--." 

The camera zoomed in as it took both the officer and the reporter a second to register anything. 

Alvin felt his heart stop. 

It was a paper with a poorly drawn red flower. A red flower he recognized. A red flower he had made fun of for years.

He swore, loudly.

~* ~* ~* ~* {O} *~ *~ *~ *~

[PRESENT]

Monday night Poppy set in place the final plans for Salem. She still hadn't heard from Paulson. The plans were fairly intricate this time around. It was supposed to be a solo mission, but at the last minute Poppy decided she'd take Ed with her. It would be easier that way, and Poppy wanted to make sure there was no way things could go wrong. 

 

Five supers. Poppy and Ed could get them out easily. The warehouse was rickety, prone to collapse. That could be an adequate distraction if they needed it. It could also be very dangerous if it came to a fight with NEO operatives. Poppy would have to adjust for that. With any luck, Poppy could get in and out without the authorities knowing until later, when her little red flower floated above the nearest NEO building like a neon sign of failure. 

When Poppy felt satisfied that she had accounted for everything besides her own death (no point planning for failure if she wouldn't be alive to see it), Poppy glanced at the time. Alvin had invited the guys over for pizza and video games-- well, he had actually called it 'homework cramming session' but Poppy read between the lines. 

As much as Poppy loved pizza, she found that the thought of watching them play video games for hours on end made her stomach churn uncomfortably. She needed air. 

 

A little-known fact about the Martian colonies is that there are walking tunnels beneath the colonies that connect one colony to the next. They had been used in the construction of various colonies, but were now left mostly abandoned. They were maintained in case of emergencies, and Poppy used them, but that was about it. 

So Poppy ran. She steered clear of the Midas Colony, but everywhere else was free game. She found herself running for hours, just breathing. The tunnels remained the same; dark, carved rock circling around her head and winding through the crust of Mars. Dark, empty, and red.

Poppy had always liked the color red. Her planet was red. Red was the color of life, the color of blood. Red was the color of a sunset. Every human heart was red, whether that heart belonged to a super or a non super. It didn't matter, it didn't change. A heart was still a heart. And supers were still human. 

Poppy kept running, breathing steadily and staring straight ahead into the darkness. The tunnels turned this way or that occasionally. Poppy followed them easily, keeping track in ther mental map of where she had gotten to. She had crossed past Juniper and was about to leave the Quire cluster toward the south east, in the direction of the Minimus Cluster. It would be an easy two hour run to get to the nearest Colony. 

She kept running. She might end up going to the next cluster beyond as well. 

Sometimes life came at her faster than she felt appropriate. But wanted to be ready when it challenged her next time.

~* ~* ~* ~* {O} *~ *~ *~ *~

[IN THE PAST]

Alvin was passed out, kneeling on the side of Poppy's bed. She blinked, glad that her body was hurting only because it meant she hadn't died. Her eyes creaked open and she saw her brother sleeping there, his lumbering form awkwardly half-drapped on the edge of her bed. 

"Al," Poppy's voice croaked. She cleared her throat. "Al!" she said a bit louder. 

He finally shot awake, short brown hair flopping with the action. "Huh? What is it?" he asked, groggily. "Hmmm Poppy?" he sat up, blinking swollen eyes slowly. 

"Al, go to bed," Poppy insisted. "I'm fine. Go crash." 

"I did," he complained, collapsing back on her bed. "Leave me alone." 

"No," Poppy tried to laugh but it got caught in her throat. "In your own bed, Al." 

He only hummed in response and Poppy decided to give up. It might be nice to have some company, anyways. After that last mission... she found it comforting to have people she cared about nearby.

This had been a rough mission. Not only had the NEO guards been trained better than ones that Poppy had encountered before, but Paulson had been there. The pale officer from the incident with Bria. 

Poppy felt a shivver down her spine. 

"They've named you, y'know," Al mumbled into Poppy's bedsheets. 

"What?" his sister asked

 He lifted his head, looking at her with a firm but concerned expression. "They named you-- the Earthen Media did. Because of that flower." 

The penny dropped. 

Poppy coughed harshly, not sure if it had just been a bad breath or if she was trying to laugh, either way, there was a smile on her face at the disapproving glare her brother was giving her. "What do they call me?" Poppy asked.

Alvin's eyes grew wide and he sat back from her bed. "It really was you, then? You did that?" 

Poppy shrugged and coughed again. She grabbed for the week-old water bottle that had sat on her bedside table because she was too lazy to put it away. She drank deeply, relishing in the taste of water. She hadn't realized how long it had been since she'd eaten or drank anything. 

Alvin waited patiently, watching his sister and waiting for her confirmation with baited breath. 

She noticed and nodded minutely. "It was me," she added quietly. 

Alvin wanted to explode. "Why would you  _do_ that, Pops?" he demanded, the words tumbling out. "You could have gotten  _killed_ , you could have gotten others killed! Poppy," he swore. "What were you  _thinking_? The war on Earth isn't our concern! You can't get involved-- not like this! This-- this-- this is--,"

"Vigilantism?" Poppy supplied, looking unrepentant. 

"Poppy!" he nearly shouted. His tone was definitely angry, furious even. 

"What?" She asked, getting a tiny bit annoyed. Her head was pounding and her throat ached. "Alvin, I wasn't about to sit back and let supers get killed for no reason! It's sick and demented! I had to do something!"

"No more!" Alvin said, clenching his fists like he wanted to hit the wall. "No more, Poppy, you can't do this! It's too dangerous!" 

"Like heck, I won't!" Poppy countered, coughing again. Her head was hurting and her stomach was demanding attention, but she wouldn't back down from arguing with her brother. "Alvin," she coughed, "this isn't a matter than we can just sit back an  _watch_. People are dying  _now_. I can't," - a long wheeze interrupted her words. For a long moment she was coughing and she couldn't breathe. 

Alvin was beside her in a moment, helping her sit up and helping her drink more water. He felt hollow, empty, and unsure of how he was feeling. "I'm just worried," he said quietly, while Poppy was still choking. She wheezed once more and then gave a last cough and began to breathe normally again. 

"I know," she said, having heard him over the sound of her own hacking. She collapsed back on to the bed, reaching a hand to grab Alvin's. "But I'm not going to stop." 

Alvin sighed, warming his sister's hand with his own. He swore for the third time that day. "Well you're not doing it alone anymore," he said, his heart thumping as he realized what he was going to say. "Next time, I'm going with you."

Poppy nodded, smiling sadly. "That's fair, but only on one condition."

"Which is?"

She took a deep, shuddering breath. She had thought about this. "I need absolute obedience. If I tell you to do something you disapprove of-- leave me, run, don't move, get captured, etc. I  need you to do it without question. I know I'm asking a lot, and I know this could mean that I will be putting myself in danger, but I will make sure my plans minimize the risk. I just need to know that you will do as I ask. Please."

Alvin nodded. "I will, Poppy. I promise." His throat was dry. 

Poppy relaxed back into her pillow. "Good," she sighed. Then she smiled as her eyes closed slightly. "Now tell me, what are they calling me? I hope it's something cool." 

Alvin laughed, standing up with the intention of getting Poppy something to eat. "They're calling you the Scarlet Pimpernel," he said, heading toward the door. 

He didn't see Poppy's eyes fly open in an expression of disgust. "What?"

"The Pimpernel!" he called, yelling from the stairwell. "It's your new name!" 

"What the heck is a Pimpernel?" 

Alvin only laughed.

~* ~* ~* ~* {O} *~ *~ *~ *~

[PRESENT]

Paulson received a communique from Piers early Tuesday morning telling him to call her as soon as he could. He squinted at the time stamp of the message on his phone. She had sent that message around three o'clock in the morning. The whole purpose for choosing the Midas colony as his base of operations at first was because they'd be in similar time zones. Why in the name of sanity had she been up at 3 o'clock in the morning on a Tuesday? 

He dressed quickly and called Piers as he tied his tie that morning. 

"Paulson?" her voice was terse. "What took you so long?" 

"I'm sorry, ma'am," he said, not sorry in the slightest. He glanced at the time on his phone. It was barely 8 AM. "I was asleep." 

"I don't care, we need you on Earth,  _no_ _w_." 

The tie slipped and fell to the ground, but Paulson didn't notice immediately. "What?" he said, disbelieving. "Ma'am, did you perhaps misread my message from Saturday?" 

"No, I didn't, and I expect you on the next shuttle to NEO City."

She hung up, not giving Paulson a chance to argue. 

He cursed, not bothering to pick up the tie before he grabbed his phone. 

~* ~* ~* ~* {O} *~ *~ *~ *~

Poppy was sitting in intermediate nuclear physics when she heard felt her phone buzz in her pocket. It was a text from Paulson. 

S:  _I'm leaving on the next shuttle to Earth. 9:35. I just wanted to say goodbye and thank you for everything._

At first, Poppy had mixed feelings. On the one hand, he was leaving. On the other, he was leaving. She played through a few implications of these. None of them were good. 

After a long while she responded. 

_P: Safe travels._

~* ~* ~* ~* {O} *~ *~ *~ *~ 

Piers waited impatiently for Paulson to arrive at the office. She tapped her heels agitatedly against the smooth linoleum flooring. 

There was a knock on her door. She stood. "Come in." 

Paulson stood there looking bedraggled and exhausted. His tie was askew, his suit coat didn't match his trousers. 

Piers took his appearance in skeptically. "You look awful," she commented coldly. 

He gave her an odd look. "Ma'am," he said flatly. "It's midnight. I've just come from Mars." 

"You'll do better to make sure you're suitably presentable. You're meeting with the Council in three hours." 

"At 3 AM?!"

Paulson cleared his throat at the strange look his boss gave him. 

"Yes, ma'am," he responded humbly. 

"Good. Go get cleaned up. 3 o'clock, my office." 

"Yes ma'am." 

 

~* ~* ~* ~* {O} *~ *~ *~ *~

Poppy had to act quickly. As soon as Paulson had told her he was leaving, she called a meeting for her team. They ditched classes and met in her living room once again. Tony tried to give her a curious look, hoping for an explanation, but Poppy ignored it in favor of laying out the plan for the Salem mission. She listed possible contingencies, escape routes, methods of communication, etc. Her team nodded quietly, accepting Poppy's word as law without a second thought. 

"We leave on the midday shuttle," she said. "We'll be getting into Salem in the early morning. We shouldn't have a problem once we're there. Paulson and Piers will be occupied." She flicked a finger and the map vanished from the holomist. 

"Wait- Paulson?" Drew asked, a handful of chips in his mouth. "He's not on Mars?" 

"No," Poppy said, shutting down her map. "He's heading back to Earth now." 

"How do you know?" Alvin asked. "Was there a--."

"He sent me a message," Poppy interrupted, fixing her swivel chair and preparing to exit. "Just before I called all of you." 

"He textedyou?" 

"Why's he leaving?"

"Did he figure something out?" 

Poppy just sighed. She didn't want to explain it. She didn't want the tension to thicken and she didn't want to deal with fired-up emotions right then. "It doesn't matter, guys, we'll deal with it later. For now, Ed and I need to get set to go." 

Without another word, Poppy left the room. 

 

She made her preparations, digging her black stealth suit out of her closet and throwing it into the bottom of the bag. She threw random bits of disguises, wigs, hair dyes, colored contact lenses, and whatever else she could find. 

It was only when she finally zipped the bag closed and sat on the edge of her bed that she allowed herself to think something was wrong. 

She didn't feel like she usually did at the start of a mission. She didn't feel excited or anxious. She didn't feel the fiery thrill of doing something impossible. She felt weak. Empty. Tired. 

Yes. Tired. That was the word. She felt  _so_ tired. She didn't want to move. She didn't even want to sleep. She just wanted to stop existing, but of course, she didn't want to die either. She just wanted to stare at a blank wall while her thoughts stopped entirely. She wanted time to slip past her without touching her. She wanted life to proceed without her interference. She wanted. She didn't want anything but quiet from her thoughts and others. She just wanted peace. 

Instead, she curled up on her bed and took a nap. 

~* ~* ~* ~* {O} *~ *~ *~ *~

[AROUND THREE AND 3/4 YEARS AGO]

Tony had known Alvin ever since he started at Andromeda University. They had been in the same History of Humanity class their first semester. But then Tony met Alvin's sister, Poppy, and he knew he'd never be the same again. Sure, he'd fallen for a pretty face before. Sure there were girls he had liked, girls he had dated, but Poppy. Poppy was something else entirely. She was smart to the point of arrogance. She wasn't just pretty, she was  _beautiful_. She smiled easily, laughed genuinely, and had enough sass to power an earth-bound shuttle. 

He found himself making excuses to Alvin about why he wanted to come over and study at their place. He pretended he needed to take certain classes for his degree, when in reality, he just wanted an excuse to sit next to Poppy during two-hour lectures. 

Then she began disappearing, sometime after their class had taken that trip to Earth. Tony had noticed  _that_ correlation at least. He tried asking her about it, but Poppy feigned ignorance. 

"Where've you been?" Tony asked frequently. 

Poppy would usually blink, obviously confused. "What do you mean?" 

"You were out of class all week!" Tony would say, amused at her bewildered expression. "Were you sick?" 

Poppy's mouth made  a small O of understanding. "Oh," she said, smiling politely. "It's nothing. I was helping my dad with some research. I already explained it to Dr. Gant." 

"Oh, uh," Tony said. "Alright." 

 

The next time, Tony saw the report before he saw Poppy again. The hero nicknamed the "Pimpernel" had struck again. Tony had let out a low whistle. It was brave to the point of insanity. 

They reviewed the news clip at the beginning of their SOC 330 class. Poppy was back. Tony received a warm smile for his trouble when she finally took her seat. 

"What do you think?" the instructor asked from downstage at the podium. "About the Pimpernel. Hero or heretic?" 

No one seemed apt to raising their hands. The instructor sighed and started calling out names. One kid said simply that he didn't know and didn't pay much attention to such things. Another applied the word 'radical'. Some called the Pimpernel 'extremist'. 

Then he called on Poppy who made a slight face. 

"Hero," she said firmly. "He might be a lunatic and a daredevil, but he's going out to save lives." 

 

"Very good, Boor, thank you." 

Tony glanced at her, but Poppy was just beaming brightly at the instructor. The class continued, but Tony found himself stealing glances at his blonde companion. 

Wow, she was beautiful. 

Later, he caught up with her in the hallway. "Hey!" he said brightly, matching his stride with hers. "That was something with the Pimpernel, huh?" 

Poppy twitched unexpectedly but quickly rearranged her features to smile happily. "Yeah, who'd of thunk that we'd discuss the  _Pimpernel_ in a university class. Crazy, huh?" She waved hello to a few others as they passed. Tony wished that he could have her attention the way she stole his. 

"Yeah, but the guys cool-- have you heard that they think he's a Martian? Like, he could be  _right here_ at Andromeda!" Tony hoped that his enthused tone and the hype about the identity of the Pimpernel would get Poppy's attention. 

It worked. Not necessarily in the way he had hoped. Poppy's expression was strange and unreadable, but she finally looked at him as they turned the corner toward Poppy's next class. "What do you mean?" she asked. "You don't really think the Pimpernel would be a  _student_ , do you?" 

Tony shrugged, glad to have finally gotten her attention. "I don't know," he said. "He could be. We don't know anything about him!" 

Poppy shrugged as well, looking away from Tony and getting lost in her own thoughts. "Fair enough."

Warning bells were sounding in Tony's head. He was losing her. "But, hey, uh, I was wondering if you wanted to grab lunch today. With me. Grab lunch with me. After class?" 

Poppy smiled kindly but apologetically at him as she pulled open the door to her class. "Can I take a rain check? I promised Al I'd help him after class." 

"Oh, uh," Tony deflated. "Yeah, sure."

"Thanks, Tony, I'll see you later."

His response rebounded back at him from the heavy steel door. 

 

Tony wished life was like the movies where the dejected hero would go off, being dejected, until suddenly he'd see a shadow or a silhouette of his lady love and they'd both live happily ever after. Instead, in real life, you just go around being dejected until you get off the couch and do something. But Tony was still in the moping phase. He walked around campus, not particularly interested in going to class. He could ditch one day, right? It wasn't like there was anything due or a test or something. 

In his dismal pity party, Tony eventually ran into Alvin, who was looking frantic. 

"Tony!" he said, gasping for breath and putting his hands on Tony's shoulders. "Have you seen Poppy?" 

Tony's eyebrows knit together. "Uh, yeah, she was in the lecture this morning, why?" Did Alvin not know about whatever Poppy had promised to help him with? Had it been a polite excuse so Poppy could turn down his offer? 

Alvin sighed, finally catching his breath and standing up normally. "It's nothing," he said, glancing at his phone. He tapped to open a message or something and rolled his eyes. " _Now_ she gets back to me." Alvin turned back to tony with an exasperated expression. "Sisters are terrible things. They're always on their phones and yet when you need them most they never answer." 

Tony had to agree. His twin sister, Tina, was much the same. "Is everything alright? Poppy mentioned she had to help you with something today. Did you need an extra pair of hands?" 

Alvin's eyebrows raised, but he smiled. "At least she's  _intending_ to ta-- help." He shook his head in response to Tony's offer. "No, we don't need help, it's just family stuff." 

"Right, okay," Tony managed weakly. 

"Can I ask you something that might seem really weird?" Alvin asked suddenly. 

 _Besides that?_ Tony thought. "Yeah, sure." 

Alvin watched Tony's face carefully. "Did Poppy seem alright to you? Like, healthy? Not limping or dazed or what have you?" 

Tony blinked. "She seemed fine," he said, bewildered. "We had a discussion about the Pimpernel in class and she answered the questions. I walked her to her next class. She  _seemed_ alright. Did something happen?" 

Alvin made a 'more or less' kind of gesture. "She sort of fell-- fell down some stairs at our parents' house," he said. "And I haven't gotten a chance to talk to her since she got back. I was just worried." 

"Oh, alright."

Alvin waved a distracted hand. "Anyway, I've got to get going to class. I'll talk to you later, 'kay Tony?" He was already walking toward the chemical engineering department. 

"Yeah!" Tony had to call after him. Dang, he moved fast. 

 

Tony sat in his room, flipping through media channels until he landed on another report about the Pimpernel. Apparently, he had fallen from a five story building and  _walked away without a scratch on him_. Tony watched news footage of a small black-clad figure falling through the sky and landing with a sickening  _CLUNCH_ on the cement below. 

Alvin thought about what Poppy had said about the Pimpernel being a lunatic and a daredevil. She was totally right. 

 

It took Tony two months in all to put it together. Every time one or both of the Boors disappeared, there would be a new report about the Pimpernel. They'd have some excuse, usually family things, but Tony was done buying it. Finally, one day, he decided he wanted a definite answer once and for all. 

He burst through the doors of their home, not bothering to knock. Alvin was playing a video game while Poppy sat reading. Tony had just finished watching a mashup of the most memorable Pimpernel moments from the past year with his roommate and he could have sworn he saw Poppy's grin half-concealed by a conveniently  placed crowbar. 

"Hey, Tony," Alvin and Poppy said, neither of them particularly impressed by his dramatic entrance. 

"What's up?" Alvin asked, still focused on the game. 

"You're the Pimpernel," he said loudly, demanding their attention. He pointed at Alvin. "You're the Scarlet Pimpernel." 

Alvin barked a laugh and Poppy spluttered as she was overtaken by a fit of giggles. Whatever reaction Tony might have expected, this was not it. He looked between the siblings awkwardly. Had he gotten it all wrong? It wasn't possible! 

"No, you have to be!" Tony insisted adamantly. "Everytime the one of you--"

"Tony," Alvin raised a hand as his laughter died. "No, no, you're right, in part." 

"What?" He turned to look at Poppy who had turned a delicate shade of pink. "What do you mean?" 

"Alvin's not the Pimpernel," Poppy giggled. She directed her next comment at her brother. "But I do owe you ten bucks. It took  _so_ much longer than I had calculated." 

Alvin pumped a fist in the air. "Darn right!" he said. "I told you!" 

Tony was confused. The siblings just grinned at him, waiting for the penny to drop. "So... if Alvin's not the Pimpernel..." Tony said slowly, trying to think through it. "Then who...?" 

"I might have to slap you if you don't get this one right," Poppy said teasingly. "It is awfully sexist of people, don't you think Al?" 

"Terrible," Alvin agreed, nodding. "Absolutely abhorrent." 

The penny dropped. 

Tony faced Poppy with his mouth agape. "You?" he breathed. 

Poppy winked. "The one and only." 

~* ~* ~* ~* {O} *~ *~ *~ *~

 [PRESENT] 

Ed sat across from her on the shuttle, reading a Popular Mechanics magazine on a tablet, flipping idly through the pages of ads and success stories. His hair was a tucked beneath a greasy blond wig. 

He wore the clothes of a well accustomed Earth mechanic. 

Poppy had hardly tried disguising herself. She wore the same brown wig she had worn two weeks ago. she had distorted her own features with face putty and put on a fake tan. Her eyes were a nondescript shade of green brown. She wore her own jeans and a shirt Tina had given her for her last birthday. 

There were five others on the shuttle with them. Poppy smiled politely at any of them she accidentally made eye contact with. 

 

As expected, Ed was detained for random searching once they got to the Earthen sides of things. Poppy slipped through, undetected. 

Poppy made her way with her dufflebag toward the stop for the bus that would get her to Salem. She overheard Ed cursing up a storm in an accent he had been practicing for a month. 

Poppy stood at the stop with her bag held between two hands. She wasn't fond of NEO city. It had it's uses and charms, but Poppy preferred the less populated regions where she could see the sky. 

Poppy nodded and smiled to some of the others waiting there. She noted , with interest, the presence of two NEO operatives. One of them Poppy recognized as Marcus Higgles, a member of Paulson's graduating class at the academy. They didn't acknowledge Poppy at all.

The bus arrived and they boarded, paying their  fees or flashing their tickets and passes. Poppy had a fake pass she had made a few weeks back. She only smiled at the driver while climbing on board. 

Once she had settled down and the bus was in motion, Poppy heard a familiar voice behind her. 

"No, it won't be a problem," the voice was saying. "Yes, I understand. It will in in your inbox by the end of the day..... Yes, Ms. Piers..... I am on my way there now...... Yes..... Yes ma'am. Thank you." 

The phone call ended and Poppy made herself not turn around. She heard Paulson sigh heavily and, presumably, lean his head against the headrest. 

The next stop he got off. He never looked twice at Poppy. 

Poppy reached Salem after a two-hour long bus ride. Her stomach grumbled angrily. She found a cafe, ordered something and pulled out a book to make sure she was seen and recognized. All according to plan. 

After an hour of sitting and drinking something that might have been tea, Poppy left, making her way toward the warehouse. It was only four kilometers away. The closer she got, the more cautious she became. Small town farm homes gave way to old industrial ruins. Poppy found the rusted steel wearhouse. Looking at it, she winced. She had known that it was structurally unsound, but  _this_. This looked like it would fall over with one strong wind. Poppy glanced at her watch. Ed would be there any moment now. Poppy would start the first few out getting their disguises ready so they'd be able to leave with Ed as soon as he got there.  

Poppy slipped around the back. She could hear muffled voices on the southeastern corner. She followed them, knocking discretely. Well, 'discrete' here is a soft term. The entire wall shook with the gentle tap. The voices suddenly stopped. Footsteps approached.

The door slid open a fraction. Bloodshot eyes peered at Poppy anxiously, hopelessly. 

Poppy held up a paper with a simple red flower. 

The eyes opened wide and there was an audible breath before the door opened just enough for Poppy to slip through. 

"I'm here to help," Poppy said in a soft, unassuming voice she had developed for her current persona. She faced a man dressed in filthy rags who looked like he hadn't slept well in at least a month. "Please, take me to the others. We must hurry." 

~* ~* ~* ~* {O} *~ *~ *~ *~

"There's an alert, sir. Our station in Salem." 

~* ~* ~* ~* {O} *~ *~ *~ *~

Ed got there shortly after Poppy did. He acted as look out while Poppy got each super, only four after all, ready to leave. She desguised them as best she could, cutting hair if she had to, helping them put contacts in for the first time. Darkening or lightening skin, and pulling clothes from her bag and altering them just enough so they would look natural. 

"When you leave," she said, softly but firmly as she hemmed the skirt on the only woman of the four of them. "Act natural. If you catch anyone's eye, just smile politely and glance away. You're not nervous. You're just going to Mars for a holiday. No one will know." 

"This'll never work," the woman moaned in the same soft tone. "We'll be captured for sure." 

Poppy smiled kindly, getting to her feet. "Has the Pimpernel failed yet?" 

"It'll be fine, Jess," one man consoled her. Poppy had groomed him neatly, putting him in a suit and tie with newly trimmed hair and a hint of 5 o'clock shadow. She could hardly recognize him as the man who had been at the warehouse door a moment ago. Poppy nicknamed him 'Roger' for no apparent reason. 

Poppy smiled at all of them. "It's time to leave," she said, putting her hands on her hips. "Make your way to the bus stop. I'll meet you there." 

The four looked at each other apprehensively. "What are you going to do?" One man asked, the one Poppy had given the nickname of 'Clark Kent' because of his dark hair. 

"I'll follow behind. I'll be there before the bus pulls out, I promise." Poppy was used to supers being nervous about going out on their own, but Poppy needed to show them just how easy it was to be fearless before the evil that is NEO. 

"Don't you have backup?" Jess asked nervously, glancing around. "Someone who could come with us?" 

Poppy felt her eyebrows flinch downward, but she pushed the expression away before anyone had a chance to recognize suspicion on her face. She hadn't been double crossed by supers yet, but she knew it was only a matter of time. "No," Poppy lied. "I don't have backup. It's just me today. But don't worry, just follow my instructions and everything will be fine." 

The last man shifted uncomfortably. He had dark brownish hair and freckles covering most of his face. Poppy called him 'spots' in her mind. "I don't like it," Spots said firmly. 

 _Oh, no_ , Poppy realized in horror.  _They're stalling_. 

She tried to keep her face neutral, maybe only a hint of exasperation at being delayed. "We don't have time to argue," Poppy insisted. She began walking out. "If you're not there by the time the bus pulls out, I won't be able to come back for you." If she was able to put enough distance between them, she could make a run for it before--.

"Wait! You can't leave us!" Jess's voice was shrill and it filled the whole warehouse. 

There was a sound of aircraft overhead. Poppy cursed. She felt her phone buzz in her pocket, no doubt Ed telling her to get out. Poppy started running. Clark Kent tackled her from behind. The walls began to shake from the beating wings of helicopters. Poppy kicked her assailant in the chest, throwing him backward a meter. Spots and Roger were already on top of her. The rafters creaked and cracked as the helicopter landed nearby. 

Poppy grumbled, slipping out of the men's grasp. She kicked 'Jess', who had been approaching with a stun gun. This building was literally about to collapse. Warning alarms went off in her mind. They all needed to get out.  _Now_. 

The doors to the warehouse were practically blasted open. Several other NEO operatives came charging in, guns drawn. 

Poppy internally groaned. Did she really have to save everyone?

All the walls were swaying dangerously. "GET OUT!" Poppy yelled as loudly as she could manage while kicking Clark in the gut. She grabbed Spots by the collar and threw him across the room, bowling over three operatives. Finally the NEO agents seemed to see what danger they were in. 

They all looked up and began a hasty retreat. Poppy grabbed Roger by the belt and tossed him toward the exit and away from the center of the warehouse, where no doubt a majority of the damage would be located. She heard other NEO operatives shouting "No, don't let her escape!" 

She remembered one figure running toward her before everything went black. 

 ~* ~* ~* ~* {O} *~ *~ *~ *~

[A WEEK AFTER TONY FOUND OUT]

When Alvin had suggested Drew Fox as a candidate for the team, Poppy at first thought he was joking. Drew was roommates with Tony and an architecture design major. What in the world would he know about rescuing supers from NEO? 

But Poppy valued her brother's input. Instead of casting aside the suggestion, Poppy started watching Drew discretely. He was lively and energetic. He joked about things at the worst possible moments. While admired by people in general, Drew didn't have one set group of friends besides Tony and a young Vietnamese man named Ed. 

Poppy approached him one day and introduced herself. 

"Hey, I'm Poppy," she said, extending a hand. 

Drew shook it. "Right. Al's sister, huh? Tony talks about you a lot." He grinned genially. 

Poppy found herself smiling in response. "I'm sure he does, but I actually have a proposition for you." 

Drew raised one dark eyebrow. "A proposition?" 

"You've heard of the Pimpernel, right?" 

~* ~* ~* ~* {O} *~ *~ *~ *~

[PRESENT]

Paulson coughed, hacked, and spluttered as the dust settled. There was a pain in his left leg that suggested it might have been cut or damaged in the collapse of the warehouse. "Hello?" he called, still coughing. "Is anyone there?" he pulled himself into a more comfortable sitting situation and took stock of his surroundings. 

Debris from the collapsed roof was everywhere. Rafters lay splintered and ragged around him. He had probably a good three square meters of space from what he could tell through the shards of sunlight flitering through the wreckage. It would be a nightmare to excavate. 

There was a soft moan to his left, were a latticed wall of rafters and roof tiles blocked his exit. Paulson tried to look through, but he could only see shadows. "Hello?" he called again. "Are you alright?" 

There were several coughs and grunts of pain more before Paulson actually got a response. "Considering a building fell on me," a grainy voice wheezed. "I'm not doing too bad." More hacks and coughs. 

"Just hang on tight," Paulson encouraged, deciding to finally examine his leg. It was, indeed, cut. "The rest of the team will get us out shortly." 

More coughing. "My head is bleeding," the other commented. "I think a roof tile clipped me." 

Paulson froze. That wasn't good. That was very not good. "Do you have anything to stop the bleeding?" he asked, urgently, trying again to see the person through the wreckage between them. "Whatever you do, don't fall asleep. We need to get you to a doctor."

"I... I don't have anything," the voice commented, the coughing now replaced with slurred speech. "I just need to st..ay..... aw...ake.." the voice was clearly trailing off sleepily. 

"No no no no no- don't do that!" Paulson scrambled, there was a little hole in the lattice structure of the fallen rubble. Theoretically, he could slide through it on his back and tend to the wounded agent. With a grunt of pain, he pulled himself through. Pain tore through his leg again and he gasped, but he managed to get all the way into the neighboring space. It took several moments for his eyes to adjust to the dimmer lighting. He finally located a petite form to his right. He scooted over carefully. He couldn't see their nametag, but he could tell she was female. That meant either Jessica Rhodes or Wilhelmina Quintus. Given the paleness of her skin, Paulson was forced to rule out Wilhelmina. 

"Hey, Jess," he said, nearing her and pulling off his jacket to use as a bandage. "It's Paulson. Try to sit up." 

The girl rolled over, groaning in pain.

Paulson froze. 

Pale skin, mottled with what looked like make up of some kind was plastered with already drying blood dripping from a large gash on her forehead. Her partially opened eyes were darker, to be sure, but...

That wasn't Jess. 

He swore. A dark wig lay torn just under her head.

"Poppy." her name came out as little more than a whisper. 

She managed a weak half-smile. "You were supposed to be in NEO city," she commented. Her eyes were mostly closed. 

"Hey,  _hey_ ," He insisted, coming back to himself and scooting closer so he could lift her head into his lap. Craddling her head there, he tore the sleeve off of his coat and wrapped it around her head. She winced. "Too tight?" he asked, wishing he had memorized those medical care trainings that NEO seemed to require at least every other week. 

"No," she coughed weakly. "It's fine. I'm just... so tired." 

"Not a chance, Boor," he said loudly enough to jolt her awake. Her eyes flicked open to look at him before starting to drift closed again. "You are not sleeping on me. Talk to me. Stay awake."

She gave a cough that had probably once been a chuckle. "I didn't think you cared," she said. 

Paulson gave a relieved smile. At least she could joke about this. That was a good sign, right? "I didn't expect the Pimpernel to react so soon," Paulson commented. "I'm sorry he sent you on this one." 

Her eyes slowly opened more. "What?" she looked at him. The cut on her head was deep, staining most of her face with red. Paulson used the hem of his coat to mop up the worst of it. 

"I'm sorry that he sent you on this one," Paulson repeated gently. "It was a trap, meant for him. I thought it was ideal-- the kind of situation that the Pimpernel wouldn't be able to refuse. I thought he'd come himself." 

Another cough. Poppy muttered something unintelligible under her breath as her eyes began to slide closed again. "Hey!" Paulson gently jostled her awake again. 

"Stop it, Paulson," Poppy complained. "I just want to sleep." 

"Do you  _want_ me to let you die?" Paulson challenged. "I'll do it, Boor. Don't tempt me." 

Poppy didn't open her eyes. "You wouldn't," she yawned, which turned into another cough. "I know you." 

His heart clenched uncomfortably. "You're right," he said softly. "I wouldn't." 

She managed another half-smile. "On that note, how mad were you when you found out?" 

"What?" 

"That I work with the Pimpernel," Poppy murmured. Her eyes drifted closed again. 

Paulson scrambled to think of something to say that would keep her awake. "It was your eyes that gave it away," he blurted. 

One eye creaked open. "My eyes?" Poppy repeated. 

"The train station, remember? You winked at me. Then, when we-- when I dropped you off at your house last Friday, I finally put the pieces together."

"I knew I should have worn contacts," Poppy whispered as her eyes closed. 

Paulson could hear the distant sounds of an excavation rescue team. "Hold on a bit longer, Poppy. They'll get us out soon."

"Then I'll make my daring escape," Poppy smiled sleepily. 

Paulson laughed. "Not until we get you to a doctor," he said. "Let's patch you up first, then you can plan your escape. You won't get far in this condition." He _needed_ to keep her conscious. "We wouldn't want to send the Pimpernel's girlfriend back to him like this, now would we?"

"Girlfriend," Poppy laughed, half-asleep. "Nope. I heal fast though. I doubt the doctor will be able to help much by the time we get there." 

"So you're  _not_ dating the Pimpernel?" Paulson said, only half-teasing. "I thought for sure after-- what do you mean you heal fast?" 

Her eyes opened fully. Her breath was already more regular. Paulson pulled the coat sleeve off her head gently. The cut was scabbed over already, probably at week one or week two healing. Paulson stared at the wound in horror, glancing at his own cut on his leg for comparison. It was still trickling blood down his ankle. 

"I'm a super," Poppy said, watching his expression. She knew he had the anti serum on him. She had seen it in his coat when he had torn the sleeve. "I've been a super my whole life." 

The wheels in Paulson's head started turning. He could hear the excavation team getting closer, calling out for survivors. He stalled by calling back to them, confirming their location. "That's impossible," he said, his voice quiet with horror. "You're implying that you didn't take the serum." 

Poppy looked up at him, head still nestled on his knee, her expression serious. "It's genetic. There's data and statistics. It's not frequent, but it happens. Like it did to me." She watched emotions pull across his face and glanced at the remains of his jacket, bunched up near his left wrist, "Are you going to kill me now?" 

"No," he said quickly. He dug in his jacket pockets and found the syringe. He tossed it aside, much too far out of reach for him to think of using it. 

"No," he repeated, too distracted by his own thoughts to see the look of surprise cross Poppy's face. "Of course not, Poppy. That makes this... harder." He bit his lip. Either Poppy's dad or her mom would have had to have been a super. Paulson would assume Dr. Boor. There had been rumors that he had originally tested the forumla on himself.

But that wasn't the main concern here. His main concern was Poppy-- protecting her at all costs. 

"Assuming we get you back to NEO city, you'll be held for questioning. If we can get documented proof that you were born a super you'll avoid the anti-serum," he was talking more to himself than to her. Poppy smiled wistfully. He was cute when he tried to be optimistic.

"You're forgetting something," Poppy said patiently. Out of a pocket, she produced the paper she had shown to the man at the door. "I'm also on the Pimpernel's team. They'll want my blood." 

He swore again taking the paper out of her hands. "Why'd you have to do this?" he muttered, presumably talking to the flower because Poppy didn't respond. He glanced at her amusedly. "You know I have a drawer full of these in my office?" 

Poppy smiled widely. "I do. I counted them last time I was there. As of a month ago you had two hundred thirty-four." 

"You were in my office a month ago?!" 

Poppy adjusted her head more comfortably on his knee and smiled. "Remember Loraine?" 

His eyes widened as he put the pieces together. "That awful assistant from accounting?" 

Poppy nodded minutely, still grinning. 

"That was  _you_?" 

Another nod. "And Mrs. Wimbleton." She added. 

"No," he shook his head, relieved at least that she seemed significantly more alert now. He looked at the cut on her head again. The scab was drying around the edges. Soon it would be completely healed. It occured to Paulson that Poppy no longer needed to keep her head elevated. And yet, he didn't tell her to move. "It's not possible," he continued. "She was older than dirt." 

"Makeup," Poppy shrugged, smiling. 

Suddenly, Paulson's flippant manner disappeared. " _You_ let that cat into my apartment?" he demanded. 

Poppy started laughing. "Mr. Snuffles! I had almost forgotten about him! I had to give him back to the pound when 'Mrs. Wimbleton' moved. He was a  _terrible_ pet." 

"How many other times?" Paulson asked, incredulous. "How long have we known each other?" 

Poppy's smile faded. "A long time," she said. She sat up, moving a small distance further away from Paulson. "I was Tim Rutherford, that assistant you fired last year. A few others who never introduced themselves to you. That pink-haired-- what was it you called me? oh, right-- pink-haired  _miscreant_ from this past New Years."

Paulson had to think hard to remember that one. He was sorry that Poppy had moved away from him. He liked being close to her. New Years... he had gone to the NEO celebration only to be interrupted by a report on the Pimpernel. He had gone and found that it was a false report. 

That was went he discovered that the Pimpernel had been liberating supers off of the streets of NEO city right under his nose. He had caught one of them, one of the Pimpernel's agents, and held them at gun point. Point-blank range. 

The pink-haired miscreant. 

"Oh," Paulson said, draining. The team was closer now. They might even be able to hear what was being said between the NEO agent and the Pimpernel operative. 

"Oh," Poppy repeated flatly. "And that wasn't the first time, it had happened before. It happened after." 

"So that's why you hate me?" Paulson searched her face in the shadows. She wasn't looking at him. She was focused on the direction from which the sounds of excavation were coming. 

"More or less," Poppy allowed.

Paulson watched the wall hopelessly. Yes, he wanted to catch the pimpernel. Yes, he wanted to take down the entire operation. 

"You're human," Poppy said finally. "And I understand that. I understand that better than the rest of the team-- pimpernel included," she added quickly. "You have your reasons, same as us. You and the Pimpernel are incredibly similar."

"The only difference being the sides we're on?" Paulson asked. 

"Yes," Poppy agreed. She looked down and caught sight of Paulson's leg. 

"What?!" She put her hands on either side of his leg, examining the cut. "You're bleeding!" 

Paulson glanced down at her hands. "Oh, um, yes. I am." 

Poppy reached over and took the remaining pieces of Paulson's coat. She tore the other sleeve off and set about to bandage Paulson's leg. "You should have taken care of this before worrying about me," she scolded gently.

"Well I didn't realize you were a super," he said, watching her hands work around the wound. When she finished, their eyes met magnetically, the air thickened suddenly around them. "Thank you." 

A smile graced her lips. It was a little melancholic and a little sardonic, but still a smile all the same. "You're welcome." 

The magnetism increased again. The world seemed to tilt and Poppy had to blink several times to keep herself aware of the passage of time. 

"Poppy," Paulson started, inclining toward her, "If we only have a few minutes until the rescuers get here,then there's something I really need to say."

A half smiled pulled up half of her face as she looked at the ground between them, breaking eye contact. "Before I make my daring escape, you mean?" 

Paulson found himself smiling as well. "Not if I stop you," he said. "But yes, something like that."

He took a deep breath, "Look, Poppy, I--." 

"Don't." 

Paulson blinked. Poppy was looking at him again. Her eyes were wide and beseeching. The cut on her head was nearly healed but for a faint pink scar. 

"Don't," she repeated. 

"What?" he asked. He searched her face again, wishing that he knew her as well she she seemed to know him. "Why not?" 

"Whatever you're going to say," Poppy insisted, making steady eye contact. "Just... don't." 

"I can't even apologize?" 

The words hung there between them while Poppy forgot to breathe. 

Finally, it came back. "Would it mean anything?" Poppy challenged hotly, ignoring Paulson's pained expression. "Would it change anything? Would you stop killing supers? Would you stop fighting the Pimpernel?" 

A sudden clank stopped their conversation cold. "Agent Paulson, are you there?" a voice asked.

"Yes, I'm here," Paulson said, his tone weary. He looked at Poppy shamefully. "I also have the Pimpernel operative. Have a team standing by, if you would." 

Poppy shot him a look. _"Really?"_  

He raised an eyebrow. "Really." 

~* ~* ~* ~* {O} *~ *~ *~ *~

Ed had watched the building collapse. He had seen the copters and had put the pieces together. He played everything backward in his mind from finish to start, trying to understand what he was supposed to do. What if Poppy had died? They hadn't actually discussed that as a possibility. They had discussed her getting trapped, but she was supposed to call him as soon as she regained consciousness to confirm life. 

It had been almost an hour and Ed still hadn't heard anything. He sat on a nearby roof, watching the excavation team finishing work. He couldn't hear any conversation. He didn't know who they were looking for. Maybe their own? Maybe Poppy? Unless he managed to steal one of their uniforms and masquerade amongst them, he'd never find out. 

He wanted to wait until the excavation process was finished to call Alvin or anyone else. He wanted to eliminate all other possibilities before causing mass hysteria. 

Finally, he saw it. Two figures were removed from the rubble. One, the taller, was limping visibly. The other--

was spinning out of reach, with an underkick to knock her assailants on their rumps. She rolled and ducked away from the NEO operatives. Ed watched as she headed toward their safe point they had appointed before leaving. He swore softly as he watched her cartwheel past two agents twice her size. Amazing. 

He glanced back at Paulson. He couldn't make out too many of the finer features, but Ed could tell that the taller agent was definitely not frowning after the blonde superheroine. 

~* ~* ~* ~* {O} *~ *~ *~ *~

[ABOUT A MONTH AFTER DREW JOINED THE TEAM] 

"Where in the world have you been?" Ed asked irritably as Drew sat across from him in the library. Ed had several textbooks sitting open in front of him, comparing different topics and definitions and processes. His brain was fried. Especially since he had had to do the  _entire_ project on his own. 

"The bathroom," Drew said, jerking a thumb over his shoulder. 

Ed snapped his pencil onto the table. "For the past two weeks?" 

Drew gave Ed a sheepish grin, rubbing his arm. The movement drew Ed's attention. The irritation Ed had felt toward Drew faded slightly. His arm, visible beneath short sleeves, was covered with bruises and scabs. "What  _happened?_ "

"Well, I got into a bit of a scrape on Earth," Drew admited, grabbing one of Ed's books and beginning to flip through it. It was a moment of rare sobriety from Drew. "Sorry I left you with the project." 

Ed accepted his apology with a nod. "It's alright. What were you doing on Earth, though? You have family there?" 

"Hmm?" Drew looked up from the book and shook his head. "Oh, no, I was helping the Pimpernel." 

Ed's eyebrows knit together. "What?"

"The Pimpernel," Drew repeated, shrugging. He didn't look like he was joking. He wasn't even smiling. The bags under his eyes suggested that he was completely exhausted. "I was helping her with a mission." 

"Her?" Ed repeated, wondering if Drew might have hit his head on something. "I thought you were talking about the Pimpernel?" 

"Yeah," Drew yawned. "The Pimpernel's a girl. Poppy Boor, have you met her?" 

"Alvin Boor's sister?" Ed asked, bewildered. Was he actually having this conversation? Was Drew drunk? "That girl Tony's always talking about?" 

"That's the one," Drew said, rubbing his eyes. He glanced at his watch. "And crap, I was supposed to meet her an hour ago for the meeting-- want to come along?" 

Ed felt like he had lost grip of reality for the time being. Surely Drew wasn't serious. He had to be seriously injured. "Uh, sure," Ed agreed, collecting his books. 

Ed stowed his books in his bag and slung it over his shoulder, following Drew to the exit of the library. 

 

They arrived at a door like any other in the housing district. Ed had never been to the housing district before. He never had reason to be there. He lived in the dorms and rarely left campus. Looking around, he felt a tiny bit intimidated by the pristine white-washed elegance of the town homes. Each stood two stories high with slanted roofs. Clear windows were evenly spaced across the facade. Three small steps led up to a small doorstep just big enough for two or three people to stand comfortably. 

Drew entered without knocking. Ed followed uncomfortably, grabbing the strap of his bag. "Drew, are you sure it's alright if I--." 

"Of course it is, shut up," Drew yawned again. 

"Drew?" a woman's voice called. "Drew, the meeting was almost an hour and a half ago!" 

A curly blonde head poked around a doorframe up the hallway a bit. She raised an eyebrow at Ed. "You're Ed Hastings, right?" Ed recognized her as Alvin's sister, thus she must be Poppy, the one Drew claimed to be the Scarlet Pimpernel. 

"Oh, uh, yeah," Ed admitted, feeling incredibly awkward. She couldn't be the Pimpernel. Drew was playing a joke on him. This was all just tailored to make him look like a fool. 

"It's nice to meet you officially, I'm Poppy," she stepped out into the hallway and extended a hand. "The Scarlet Pimpernel." 

The look on Ed's face must have been hilarious because Poppy was chuckling gently. 

"Told you," Drew muttered under his breath. 

Poppy grinned, glancing between the two. "Hey, Ed, since you're here anyway, I have a proposition for you. Have you ever been to Earth before?" 

"Uh," Ed gulped. "No. I can't say that I have." 

Poppy cocked her head to the side and grinned. "Have you ever considered vigilantism?" 

~* ~* ~* ~* {O} *~ *~ *~ *~ 

[PRESENT] 

When Poppy got home, she collapsed on her bed. No more missions for a while, she decided. Instead, she flipped on the News to see the results of her vanity project. 

Paulson's face filled the screen, now free from dirt and rubble that had dusted his person in the collapsed wearhouse. 

"We can't now give an affirmative to the identity of the man known as the Scarlet Pimpernel," he was saying, reading off his cards and only occassionally looking up at the audience of press members. 

"Poppy!" She heard Al's voice from down stairs. "POPPY TURN ON THE NEWS!" 

"But we can say this:" Paulson looked up, stowing the notecards inside his coat pocket. "The Pimpernel sent a young woman into a battlefield with no protection, no backup, and no weapons." 

Paulson's hands gripped the podium tightly and he looked angrier than Poppy had seen him in a long time. "The Pimpernel is the lowest kind of man. He's the kind of man who preys on the good intentions of others. He's the kind of man who takes advantage of the goodness of a young girl for his own self-serving reasons. He is... disgusting." 

Poppy sighed before turning it off with a wave of her hand. "Oh, Shawny-boy," she sighed. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *sing-song voice* this chapter is waaaaaaaaaayyy too long.  
> sorry friends


	6. Something about Poppies

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> PREVIOUSLY: How the league came together is explained..  
> CURRENTLY: Plot thickens. Mwahahahaha.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Maybe this is salvageable. IDK. My poor children.

"You've summoned us here," one silhouetted figure said coldly. "Now _what_ do you want?" 

Piers stood amidst a U-shaped table, facing twelve backlit council members. Their faces, their names, everything about them was hidden from her. But that was as she preferred it. Dark. Unnamed. Untouchable. 

"War," she said, the word echoing around chrome walls and faint lights. "I demand war." 

"We  _gave_ you war," another said. It was impossible to tell which was speaking. None of them moved. None of them shifted or looked from one face to another. All remained perfectly still, facing the woman before them. 

"War on Mars," Piers corrected. She looked steadily around the table, never lingering on one shadowed face or another for longer than a second. "I want Mars. I want the universe rid of supers." 

"What will you give us in return?" A third voice asked. It was impossible to tell if it was the same voice as the first or second speaker. Piers did not dwell on it. 

Rather, she smiled, knowing already what she had to offer. 

"I offer you," she said with a vampirish grin, "the Pimpernel's heart." 

"His heart?" A shadow asked dubiously. "You will not offer the man himself?"

If Piers had a soul or a sense of humor she would have shrugged. But she remained as still as her patrons. "Once you take his heart, you can do with him as you please."

The council did not speak. Piers assumed they were deliberating. Finally, they spoke.

"You will have your war."

 

"Agent," Piers nodded to Paulson as she left the meeting room. There was a self-satisfied air about her that told her success. Piers made her way to her own office, determined to set matters into motion now that she had the approval of the council. There were people who needed to be in position. There were satellites that needed to be in the air yesterday to match with Piers' timetable. 

And the girl. She would need the girl. 

But Paulson was still injured from the Salem affair. Piers would have to wait if she intended to keep him on her side. Not that he'd be a terrible lost to her campaign, but it would be so much simpler with him there. He would have much easier access to the girl than Piers or any of the others would. 

She could wait. She was a patient woman. 

 

One week. 

That was how long Piers waited. She noticed the odd looks Paulson gave her when they passed in the hallways, but she ignored them. Paulson's only reason for being confused was that he was working in the office for an extended period of time, undoubtedly a somewhat uncomfortable concept for him to contemplate about for too long. 

She called him to her office. He came quickly, the limp in his leg practically imperceptible. 

"Yes, ma'am?" He said, glancing at her nervously. 

Piers barely glanced at him, focusing instead on the data swimming across her desktop and floating in the shallow holomist. "I need you to return to Mars." 

The perplexity in his voice was evident before Piers had looked up to see his face. "Back to Mars, ma'am?" he repeated. "Why? What is my assignment?" 

"Lure the girl here," she said simply. "Get her to come to Earth. I don't care how. Drug her if you have to. "

"Ma'am?!" Paulson sounded incredulous. "To what end would that serve?"

Piers finally looked at him properly, boring holes into his skull with the intensity of her gaze. "You said she was the Pimpernel's consort, did you not?" 

A guilty look flashed across his face. He tried to hide it, but Piers had seen it in her eyes and her anger suddenly flared. 

" _Did you not?_ " she repeated dangerously.

"I did, ma'am," Paulson admitted with a sigh. There was a reluctance there that Piers thoroughly disapproved of. 

"Then  _what_ , pray tell, is the problem? Bring her here. Blackmail, extortion, bribe, I don't care. We need her." She peered at her associate inquisitively. "You're hesitating, agent. Is there something bothering you about the assignment?"

Paulson paled visibly. "N-No," he cleared his throat. "No, ma'am. I only worry... I may have been wrong in the girl's relationship to the Pimpernel." He shifted his weight from one foot to the other. 

Piers studied him intently. He was Shawn Douglas Paulson, agent of the New Earth Order. He had worked under her for years. She never knew him to withhold information. Something... something had created a flaw. 

Piers waved a hand dismissively. "Then go. You're off the assignment. I'll send Rais instead. You are dismissed." She went back to reading her communique and data sheets. 

There was a long pause with no sound. It was unsettling. Piers had anticipated a sullen 'yes, ma'am' accompanied by the sound of her office door closing. She glanced up at the agent who still stood there, his expression frozen in surprise. 

"You are  _dismissed_ ," Piers repeated. 

Paulson blinked. "Off the assignment, ma'am?" he repeated weakly. "For Poppy?" 

Piers didn't actually know the girl's name, but she assumed it must be her. "Yes. You're off the case. Either you're no longer objective or you're reluctant to do what needs to be done. Regardless--."

"I can do it," Paulson interrupted quickly. 

Piers didn't like being interrupted. She glared at him flatly. " _Regardless_ ," she continued. "I don't want a job half-done, Paulson. We  _need_ that girl." 

"I'll get her here," Paulson promised quickly, trying to look serious and convincing. "She'll be here within the week." 

"I want her by tomorrow." 

" _Tomorrow?_ " Paulson squawked. 

She stared at him until he regained his composure. Of course, she meant tomorrow. Had she stuttered? Had she misspoken? No. Rosemary Piers did not misspeak. 

"Tomorrow," Paulson nodded, straightening his suit coat. "She'll be here tomorrow." 

"Then go. Now." 

~* ~* ~* ~* {O} *~ *~ *~ *~

Alvin made Poppy go see a doctor as soon as she got back. 

"I'm  _fine_ ," Poppy had insisted. "I don't need to see a doctor!" 

Alvin had only hummed, unconvinced as he walked with her toward the medical center on the far east side of Andromeda. 

 

"Another hiking accident?" Dr. Fernandez asked, smiling knowingly as he inspected Poppy's hairline with a small flashlight. 

"You know me," Poppy winced as he touched a tender spot where her skull was still healing. "Rather accident-prone." 

"Is it tender there?" The doctor asked, touching the tender spot again.

Poppy strained to keep the pain out of her face. "Nope, not at all." 

Dr. Fernandez sighed, clicking the flashlight off and sitting so he was eye-level with Poppy. His tanned skin was laced with laugh-lines and wrinkles, but his eyes held a deep concern for his patient. "Despite what you might think, Ms. Boor, you're a terrible liar." 

Poppy smiled sheepishly. 

"I'm recommending you take the day off today and tomorrow. Rest, heal, let your system fix you up. I can give you some pain medication if you'd like, but besides that, I think time will be your best treatment," the doctor said, standing and taking off his latex gloves. He smiled at her. "Good luck, Ms. Boor." 

Poppy shook his proffered hand. "Thanks, Dr. Fernandez." 

"Thank your brother," he laughed as Poppy left the office. "He's the one that drags you here." 

Alvin was sitting in the waiting area when Poppy came out. Poppy anticipated the smug expression she would get to wear as she told Alvin that there was nothing wrong with her. She hadn't anticipated seeing Alvin with his back to her, obviously on a stressful phone call with his shoulders hunched and an anxious hand rubbing the back of his head. 

" _She's not out yet_ ," Alvin was saying quickly and irritably. "I don't  _know_! No, of course, I can't-- shut up. No, seriously, shut up or I will punch you. This isn't a joke." Alvin swore angrily. 

Poppy tapped him on the shoulder. He whirled, his face pale and his mouth agape. He stared down at his younger sister and finally remembered how to breathe. "I'll call you back," he said flatly. "She's out now." 

Alvin ended the call before the other person had time to respond. He grabbed Poppy's arm. "We've got to go," he said urgently. 

Poppy felt her heart sink. "What is it?" she asked as Alvin led her out of the med center and back into the town main. 

"We're not... we're not entirely sure yet," Alvin admitted, continuing to move at a determined pace. "You got a message on your phone while you were in the office," he said, handing her the phone as they continued to move. "It was from Paulson. He said, and I quote, "I'm on a shuttle for Mars right now. I need you to meet me at the station." 

Poppy bit the inside of her cheek, hoping that nothing from Salem would have given Paulson the mistaken impression that he had a right to demand things like that. "What did you do?" Poppy asked. "Did you respond?" 

"No," Al said. "He--."

"Where are we going?" Poppy asked suddenly as they passed the turn for their house. "Home's that way." 

"We're going to the dorms. The guys are already there," Alvin explained hurriedly. "But Paulson wrote again before I got the chance to think of what to do. He said it's about Mom and Dad." 

Poppy stumbled a step but started picking up the pace, something akin to fear taking root in her heart. "And you called them, I presume?"

Alvin nodded, just barely keeping stride with his sister. "No answer-- but it's the middle of the day, that's not completely--." 

Poppy turned and started heading away from Alvin and toward the train station. "I'm going to Midas," she said decisively. "I need to make sure they're alright." 

"No-- Poppy- stop!" Alvin had to jog after her. "Tony already went there. He was just reporting back when you came out. He couldn't find them. Mom wasn't at the school or the hospital and Dad didn't report at the lab today. According to Lucas he said he had to take a trip to Earth-- an emergency for a friend." 

Poppy froze and her ears felt like they were plugged with cotton. She heard the reverberating thump-thump of her own heartbeat as her mind whirred. The world became a pale blur as she stopped focusing on her surroundings. It was easy to imagine what had happened. Her parents, seeing the good in people, maybe Paulson had persuaded them that Poppy was in danger or that NEO had made an arrangement to discuss with them. 

Either way. 

Paulson had touched her parents. He had put them in harm's way. 

"I'm going to kill him," Poppy said, trying to not crush her phone as she pulled up his contact information. 

He didn't pick up. His voice mail beeped. Poppy tried to think of something to say as it was recording, but nothing came. Instead, she left thirty seconds of her own breathing on Paulson's voicemail and hung up. 

 

The guys jumped to their feet like soldiers snapping to attention when Poppy and Alvin entered Drew and Tony's minuscule dorm room. 

"Sit  _down_ , guys," Poppy said impatiently, rubbing her forehead with the back of her hand. "We need a plan." 

"Are you going to meet Paulson at the station?" Tony asked. 

Poppy scoffed, sitting down with her back against the closed door. "Probably not, I hope to be gone before he gets here." 

"Gone?" Ed repeated. He was half-reclined on Drew's bed, Drew on the ground adjacent. "You're not going back to Earth?" 

"Of course you are!" Drew threw his hands in the air. His tone between humor and irritation showing that he was more irritated than he had been in years. "A building falls on you, your boyfriend comes back into town, what else would you do?" 

"It means that you all will be apprehending Paulson-- or have the local authorities do it, if you'd like. I'm sure they wouldn't mind," Poppy said, several plans linking together in her mind like a massive net. So many moving pieces. "We're all going to have to be in top form until this all blows over." Different events would trigger differently. So many things unpredictable. Too many options. What if they didn't-- what if this or that? Like a puzzle, bit by bit, the plans began to take shape in Poppy's mind. 

"I'm going to Earth," she said, pulling out her phone to find the next available shuttle. "I'll be there for an extended period. No matter what happens, no matter what you hear, unless Paulson himself tells you I'm dead, don't come for me, don't come to earth at all."

"Why Paulson?" Tony demanded. "Why should we trust him?" 

"You shouldn't," Poppy said, her eyes flashing. "I'm expecting Piers might try to convince the world that I'm dead. Anyone of the league would likely try to come and discover the truth or exact revenge. She'd have the entire league and her free reign over supers. And as much as I  _hate_ that-," she cut herself off before she started cursing again. "- I don't believe he'd tell you (well, at least Alvin) that I was dead unless I really was." 

The guys remained silent, contemplating. Poppy continued. "I'll be there until either I escape or I'm killed. Paulson doesn't know that I'm the Pimpernel yet-- only that I work with the Pimpernel. Which means he likely suspects one of you and will do his hardest to get you out to Earth so he can have you killed or arrested. I'll probably be tortured and imprisoned. Do. Not. Come for me. I'll get Mom and Dad out. They'll be home by tomorrow." 

She stood, her head fuzzy and disoriented."Stay here- when Paulson gets here, do what you want with him. The shuttle leaves in half and hour." 

 

 _Paulson_ , Poppy vowed pensively.  _You said I'd have to kill you if I wanted to stop you._

_Well, I'm coming. Are you happy now?_

~* ~* ~* ~* {O} *~ *~ *~ *~

Paulson stared at his phone. Poppy had called while he had slept. He listened to the message, but it was only her ragged breathing. He felt his chest clench. She would have called her parents. They wouldn't have answered. Likely herself or her brother would have gone to check on them, and being unable to find them, would have put the pieces together. 

He pressed his hands to his eyes, trying to ignore the sick feeling in his stomach. It was better this way. The Boors would be unharmed. They would be told it was a mistake at the shuttle station and sent straight back to Mars. In fact, they were probably on the return trip now. They would be perfectly safe. They would be unharmed. He was keeping his promise to her. 

It didn't feel like it, though. 

She hadn't responded to his messages. He wasn't sure he had expected her to. 

But he wanted her to. 

He tried calling her. It went straight to voicemail. "Poppy," he breathed, not sure what to say next. "Your parents will be safe, I promise. It was all just a ruse-- I needed-- I-- they'll be back to Mars by tomorrow. I'm sorry. I promise-- they'll be okay. They'll be alright. Poppy, please. I'm sorry." 

He hung up, clenching his teeth together and trying to regain control over his emotions. 

 

He arrived at the station and looked around, panicked. He-- She had to be there somewhere. She wouldn't just not come, would she?

He almost forgot to breathe. She wouldn't have gone on to Earth without him, would she? That would be bad. Rias would be cruel, brutal. 

Suddenly, Paulson found himself surrounded by four vaguely familiar faces. He looked around at them, his expression unafraid, but worried. "Where's Poppy?" he asked, examining one face after the other. "Where'd she go? I need to talk to her." 

"Can I punch him?" Tony muttered out of the corner of his mouth to Alvin. "I want to punch him." 

"She's gone," Ed offered, his tone unexpectedly helpful. "She's already left for Earth. She left at about noon-- close to six hours ago." 

" _Ed_?!" Tony balked at him. "Why--." 

"Shut up, Tony," Ed said quietly, stepping forward out of the semi-circle and demanding Paulson's full attention, distracted and haphazard as it was. "She intends to be at NEO headquarters before tonight. She'll be looking for her parent until she hears that they're safe from either us or you." 

"Why?" Paulson moaned, rubbing his eyes. He swore. "Poppy. Why couldn't she just  _wait_ for me? Rias will--." 

"Maybe 'cos she hates your guts? I dunno, man," Drew grumbled, interrupting. 

"Well, trust me," Paulson snapped irritably. "The feeling's mutual." 

"That's probably true," Ed said, smirking slightly and raising an eyebrow. 

Paulson caught the look and its meaning. He felt his ears turn red. "I have to get back. She'll be in danger if I'm not there." 

Tony stepped forward and grabbed his arm violently. "Whoa- what? You're not going  _anywhere,"_ Tony snarled. 

" _Tony_ ," Ed stepped between them, removing Tony's arm from Paulson's sleeve. "Leave him be." 

" _You_ ," Paulson pushed Ed out of the way so he could face Tony himself. He took in Tony's stature, expression, and stance with a deep frown. "I knew it was you the whole time. _You_ are the one who sends her into disaster-- into traps and death! She could have  _died_ in Salem, did you ever think about that in your convoluted mind? Have you  _ever_ considered her safety? Her well-being? Just because she's a super doesn't mean she's invincible, you  _idiot_! She was _bleeding_ and practically  _unconscious_. What if she had died? You sent her without any backup? She's  _one woman_. She's strong and brave and inventive, but not indestructible. She  _could have died_ you arrogant son of a --." He only grunted in frustration, pinching the bride of his nose. Paulson wanted to rant more but he didn't have the energy and he knew the last shuttle of the day-- the over night shuttle-- would be leaving in twenty minutes. Here he stood, nose to nose with the Scarlet Pimpernel and all they could do was argue about a girl. 

"I never did that," Tony said perplexedly. "I--," his eyes widened slightly and his mouth snapped shut. He had forgotten. Paulson didn't know yet. 

"It doesn't matter and I  _really_ don't care. If it wasn't for you, Poppy couldn't be in this mess," Paulson stepped back. "Come and rescue her-- she'll be our prisoner until we have the Pimpernel in chains." 

With that, Paulson turned back into the shuttle station, leaving the league of the Pimpernel feeling winded and confused. 

"Did he just--?" Drew started. 

Ed nodded, dumbfounded. "I think so." 

Drew gave a low whistle.

~* ~* ~* ~* {O} *~ *~ *~ *~

On the shuttle ride, Poppy had a chance to simmer down and re-evaluate her plan. With a sigh and a glance out the upper porthole window that stared into the dark abyss of space, Poppy decided that she didn't want to kill Paulson. But she sure as heck wouldn't be hugging him the next time she saw him. She'd probably give him a black eye or something for his trouble. 

She felt a sense of numbness as she reminded herself that she should never have trusted Paulson in the first place. She should have assumed that he would go after her parents-- all her loved ones-- eventually. 

 

Poppy arrived in NEO city at almost two o'clock in the morning. She checked her phone. She had a missed call from Paulson and he'd left a message. Standing outside of the dimly lit shuttle station, Poppy listened to Paulson's tired voice: "Poppy," her name sounded like a sigh, "Your parents will be safe, I promise. It was all just a ruse-- I needed-- I-- they'll be back to Mars by tomorrow. I'm sorry. I promise-- they'll be okay. They'll be alright. Poppy, please. I'm sorry." 

Poppy put her phone back in her pocket and rubbed her eyes with cold hands. She had no reason to trust him. No reason to believe him. He had lied to her. He was a liar. He was just as corrupt as the rest of them, wasn't he? Wasn't he?

Poppy shivered in the cold air. A brisk breeze blew her hair out of her face. She pulled her phone out again. There was a simple way to see if Paulson was telling the truth. She pressed her parents contact information. The phone started ringing. 

"Hello?" her dad groggily responded. "Pops? What's wrong?" 

Poppy felt a knot in her chest start to relax. "Dad? Where are you? Are you alright?" 

Her dad yawned into the receiver. "Yeah-- your mom and I-- this is a very long story, I'll have to tell you when I wake up-- we're on a shuttle back from Earth, would you believe it? It was a crazy mistake-- but yes, we're fine. Sorry that you and Alvin couldn't get ahold of us sooner. Solar flares." He yawned again.

"That's alright, dad," Poppy said, trying to sound casual. "We just wanted to make sure you both were alright. Get some rest. I'll talk to you soon." 

"Alright, Poppy," her dad said sleepily. "We love you!" 

"Love you, too, dad." 

Poppy hung up. At least they were safe. Now she was forced with a choice. The last shuttle for the night had already left. The next wouldn't be getting started for another five hours. Not to mention, Poppy wanted to sleep for about five thousand years if someone would let her.  

Glancing down the street toward the apartments across from NEO headquarters Poppy smiled through her exhaustion. She knew just the place. 

 

Paulson hated long flights. He hated the trip between Mars and Earth. Especially when he made it so frequently. This would be the fourth time that month and the second time in 24 hours. 

He got in at around eight o'clock in the morning. The station was just starting to fill with people who had to make the likely weekly commute to Mars. Paulson was tired and his neck hurt and the people were far too loud for his taste. 

Fatigue vanished in an instant when he saw her. 

Poppy stood examining her ticket when she felt someone watching her. She glanced up surreptitiously and found herself frozen in fear, eyes wide like a deer in the headlights. She wore no disguise beside straightened hair that fell flatly around her face. It would have been enough if anyone was looking at the curly mane in wanted pictures, but for Paulson who knew those eyes so well, he doubted he'd ever be unable to recognize her again.

There was a long moment of indecision. Paulson wanted nothing more than to run and hold her to confirm that she was alive and well. Poppy was torn between smiling cheekily before dodging onto the shuttle and punching him out cold for using her parents. 

Instead, Poppy and Paulson stared at each other, transfixed, until the shuttle alarm sounded, warning passengers that they had only about thirty seconds to get on board. Poppy blinked, the words "I have to go" caught somewhere in her throat. 

She started to move past him, toward the exit doors, but he reflexively stuck out an arm to stop her. "Please," he said, his eyes bloodshot and begging. "Please don't go." 

The shuttle doors snapped shut, making Poppy's decision for her. 

"I guess I'm not going anywhere," she sighed, looking at the doors wistfully. She glanced back up at Paulson, who was still watching her something akin to admiration in his eyes. 

"I'm glad you're safe," he said, his eyes raking over her face and lingering at her hairline where the scar was completely healed but for a twinge of tenderness. "How's the--," he nodded toward her head, his arm still across her and holding her forearm. 

"Better," Poppy admitted, smiling slightly. "My doctor told me to take it easy for a couple of days." 

Paulson gave a dry chuckle. "I'm sure he did." He searched her face again, determined to make sure she was alright. "I thought you said you didn't need a doctor?" he smiled. 

Poppy smiled back wryly. "Well, Alvin disagreed." 

Paulson stiffened suddenly and dropped his arm. "I'm sorry, Poppy," he said, looking at her pleadingly. "I'm sorry for using your parents to get you here." 

Poppy nodded, feeling much more herself now. She turned to face Paulson, folding her arms. "Yeah, y'know? I still owe you something for that." 

He had just enough time to be confused when suddenly Poppy's fist came out of nowhere as she clocked him.

 

Less than an hour later, to no one's surprise, Poppy was in a holding cell in the basement of NEO headquarters. They'd taken her bag, which she'd expected. They'd taken her clothes and given her a hideous white jumpsuit, which she'd also expected. 

Then, unexpectedly, they left her alone. Food was brought twice a day and she was given a private bathroom with a covering and no cameras. 

And she was totally alone. 

Totally. Completely. Alone. 

 

Paulson nursed the black eye as Piers congratulated him on not failing her. He only heard every other word, but he caught the phrase 'wait until the pimpernel comes to rescue her' and he immediately flashed back to his conversation with D'Urso. 

He'd had enough time to think about what he's said to the Pimpernel, the angry sleep-deprived words he had hurled caustically and thoughtlessly. The agent had meant every word, of that he had no doubt, but perhaps those words could have been more carefully placed or processed so as to be more effective and less antagonistic. 

D'Urso would come for her, Paulson had no doubt. He had seen the way, back when they had first met in Poppy's living room, that he had looked at the girl. He clearly cared about her, even if Poppy claimed otherwise. He would come for her and be taken, likely killed. 

Then what?

What would become of Poppy? Would she be allowed to go free? Paulson hadn't included much about her in his report on Salem. He had conveniently forgotten to mention that the girl from Salem was the same girl from Mars. Technically, most of NEO was only under the impression that Poppy had a romantic relationship with the Pimpernel, not that she actively worked on his team. With that, she might be allowed to go free. 

And Paulson would likely never see her again. 

 

Day one wasn't too bad for Poppy. She told herself stories, replayed favorite memories, and sat in an easy silence. 

Day two was basically the same. 

Days three and four were pretty bad. Poppy began to wonder if she'd ever be able to find a way to escape. Paulson had put so many extraneous security measures on the cell. 

Days five through nine were filled with Poppy trying to keep herself positive. She exercised and examined the security measures further. She memorized plans and tried to discover which wall had the one-sided mirror. She found it but pretended she didn't. If she could hoard even the tiniest bit of knowledge to herself, she knew it had the chance of helping her in the end. 

Days ten through twelve Poppy began to feel her mind tear itself apart. She turned away from the wall where they could see her. She faced a blank wall and cried. 

Day thirteen Poppy finally realized why it was so hard for her. She had always treated it like a game. She'd pull their hair and they would tweak her nose, but she needed an audience. She needed people to fight back. It was the only way this was alright. This isolation was Poppy's worse nightmare come true. It was her own personal hell. 

Day fourteen Paulson came to visit. 

 

The lights always dimmed at the same time every day. It was routine. Poppy already had a superior sense of time, but as the solitude got worse, she counted on them to distinguish day from day.

This was the fourteenth night. Almost two weeks of complete isolation. 

The lights brightened off-schedule.

Poppy didn't need to focus on the figure to know they were entering. She didn't need to look at them to know who it was.

There was a familiar _hiss_ as the pressure lock reengaged followed by gentle steps against polished floor.

The figure stopped in the center of the room. His coat was rumpled and Poppy was willing to bet her small fortune that he had fallen asleep in his office again. His hair was disheveled, his tie was loose, and his eyes were bloodshot.

"Are you happy now?" Poppy asked with a sardonic smile, her head rolling back to rest against the wall as she looked up at the agent.

He sighed and rubbed a tired eye, his expression exhausted. "No, of course, I'm not, Poppy," he said impatiently. "It's three am." he pinched the bridge of his nose. "Why in the name of sanity isn't he here?!" His words were sudden and faintly tinted with impatience and desperation.

"I asked him not to come, obviously," Poppy said, closing her eyes for a brief moment. She was sick of the charade. "No one's coming for me."

 " _What_?!"

Poppy opened her eyes. He looked incredulous. His face was pale with some emotion Poppy didn't have the will to decipher. "No one's coming," Poppy asserted firmly, her brow set and her stomach churning.

He started pacing agitatedly and didn't respond for a long minute. Under his breath, he muttered things like "stupid" and "idiotic, selfish" and "incomprehensible".

Finally, he stopped in the same place near the center of the room. He held his clasped hands out, pointing with them together. "The only thing," he said slowly, "standing between you and the anti-serum is the fact that Piers is convinced he loves you enough to com rescue you."

Poppy rolled her head against the wall again, disinterested and tired. "I've told you it's not like that. He's not coming. No one is."

"That's absolutely ridiculous," Paulson retorted viciously. "If D'Urso's half the man I've ever assumed him to be, he would be here to rescue you." He shook his head slightly. "The Pimpernel does not leave a man behind. Besides, every word the man _said,_ everything he's done, _every time he looked at you_ , I could see how much he loved you. So _why isn't he rescuing you?_ "

"D'Urso?" Poppy parroted quickly, a slow-growing grin forming on her face. "Tony?"

"Yes, of course," Paulson said with an impatient wave of his hand. "What sort of idiot do you take me for?"

Suddenly, Poppy was laughing full-blown belly laughs that made her sides hurt. She toppled over to her side, completely missing Paulson throwing his hands up in the air exasperatedly.

"Poppy!" he yelled her name, trying to be heard over her own laughter. "POPPY! Pull yourself together!"

"T-Tony's not the pimpernel!" Poppy giggled.

"He has to be," Paulson said, but Poppy kept giggling. He opened his mouth to speak again, but Poppy beat him to it.

"Does it even _look_ like a Pimpernel?" Poppy asked, the last of the giggles dying in a long breath.

"Who?"

"No, _it_ ," Poppy emphasized. Had she been in her right mind, she might not have been talking about this. "The drawing-- the pimpernel-- does it even _look_ like a pimpernel?"

"What does it matter?" Paulson countered, throwing his hands in the air again and pacing away from her. "It's a symbol-- no one cares what--."

"It's a red flower," Poppy prompted, resting her chin on her knees and raising a challenging eyebrow. "Why don't you take another guess?"

Paulson turned angrily, clearly frustrated with the fruitlessness of this topic. "Poppy, it doesn't… it..."

Poppy.

_Poppy._

The room fell silent as Paulson's mind replayed the past month. Meeting Dr. Boor. Meeting Poppy. Her hesitations, her anger, her _hatred_. The train ride. The jokes, the jabs, the _flirting_ , heaven help him.

Their date.

The park. The two young men in the bushes. Katie. Juniper.

Poppy.

His mind replayed the past five years.

Being assigned to the Pimpernel. the empty file. The single hand-drawn flower. The reconnaissance missions. The stake-outs. _Five years_. The traps. The plans.

Poppy.

Always Poppy.

"It-- you," Paulson managed.

 "Me," Poppy smiled softly, blinking in admittance. "Definitely me."

"Oh, my… " Paulson stumbled back a step away from her, some strange form of shocked disbelief frozen on his face. "You."

Poppy's smile grew into a smirk, watching his eyes twitch as he thought through everything he could. "Do you remember years ago when you lost a prisoner, Bria Smith? Here in NEO city. Before NEO put in more security on the cells for supers?"

Paulson thought back, scratching the recesses of his memory. The first time he had lost a prisoner here before the additional security measures had been put into place in response to the Pimpernel.

Then it clicked and Paulson found himself remembering a young blond girl arguing with the front desk security when the cameras had been shut off.

Heaven help him, he was thick.

Poppy saw the realization on his face. She smirked again. "That was when it started. When you killed Bria," Poppy leaned her head against the wall again. "I hadn't known her very long. She was kind, though, and I had put her into danger. So I had to do something."

Paulson remembered pursuing the dark-haired girl, Bria, he assumed, to the shuttle station. He had been written up for making a scene in a public place. He felt sick remembering. It had been the first time he used the anti-serum on someone.

"After that," Poppy continued softly. "I knew that I could do something. And if I _could_ , I knew I _should_. And I did. I've done it for four or five years now." She waited until Paulson had refocused his eyes on her, still unable to say anything. When his eyes met hers, she continued. "I'm the Scarlet Pimpernel. My name is Poppy Boor." she paused. "And no one is coming to rescue me so you may as well get it over with."

"I don't have it," Paulson said quietly. He opened up his jacket, showing her the pockets. Sure enough, there was nothing there but his official NEO badge. "I haven't replaced it since Salem."

The significance wasn't lost on Poppy, but nor did it atone for _the past five years of hell._ She stood suddenly, ignoring the pins-and-needles feeling tingling at her feet. "So what are you going to do then, Paulson?" she demanded. "You have what you've always wanted. You've got me. You've got my team tied up and obedient. If I die will they give you hell? Yes. Of course they will. But if you can get me, you'll get them eventually. So _what are you going to do_?"

Poppy watched as Paulson's world began to shift. She saw his eyes go glassy, unfocused. He stared at a spot over her shoulder. His left eyebrow twitched sporadically.

Poppy would wait for him to respond. She searched her own feelings for confirmation. She felt heat. Energy. It wasn't the fiery passion that made her fight NEO. It wasn't the steady determination that kept her planning. It was a righteous indignation and a desire to stop beating around the bush.

Was Paulson a friend? Her enemy?  She didn't know and she didn't really care right then. Right then, all she knew was that she was done. She was done lying. The truth would be out. No more hiding. She was done.

Paulson turned toward the door. The warm feeling didn't leave Poppy, even as she realized that it was likely she would never see him again. Even as she realized that this really could be her last night alive.

But then he only held the door open, looking her in the eye as the dark hallway loomed beyond him.

"Go," he said. "Your things are under my desk. I assume you still know your way around?"

 


	7. Reconnaître

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> PREVIOUSLY: Poppy was taken by Paulson as a suspect affiliate of the Pimpernel. Poppy admitted to being the Pimpernel. Paulson released her.  
> CURRENTLY: Poppy's having something of an existential crisis. The Endgame is in the air.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's as good as it's going to get, friends. And it's finals week.

Poppy couldn't breathe. She figured her nervous system must be going into shock, yet oddly enough that knowledge did very little to comfort her. Her chest felt tight and she just wanted to cease existing.  

 _He had let her go_. 

She was curled up on the floor of a safe house she had established a year ago. She tried to focus on the physical and distract herself from the inner turmoil of her mind. 

 _He had let her go_. 

Her duffle bag was her pillow. Her blanket was a jacket that didn't cover her feet. 

_He knew who she was. And he had let her go._

Dust floated in the light given off by Poppy's storm lantern. Bugs hummed around her, flitting through shadows. 

_She had told him she was the Pimpernel._

Something creaked behind her. The wind blew gently outside. Someone across the street was playing jazz music. Poppy recognized  _Dream a Little Dream of Me_. 

 _He had let her go_. 

He had let her go. Paulson, without much debate, had let her go. Knowing that she was the one he had fought against for the past five years, he had held the door open for her. 

Shawn Paulson. 

He had let her go. 

How could he do that? After all they'd been through-- all the times they'd fought. All the times she had felt her rage boil so close to the surface because of him. All the times when they had been at such odds that no words could describe the heat, the anger, the furious indignation, she had felt at seeing him. 

How could he let her go? How could he let her leave unharmed? 

She hadn't been followed. Her things weren't bugged. 

He had simply let her go. 

Because he cared about her. Because he wanted her to be safe. His words hadn't been lost on her. 

_"I don't have it. I haven't replaced it since Salem."_

He had let her go. 

Poppy buried her face in her duffle bag and saw again in her imagination Paulson's face as she slipped silently past him into the dark corridor. He had looked like he wanted to reach out to her. She had thought that he was going to stop her. But he hadn't. He had let her go. He had watched her go, breathing her name when he had thought she was out of earshot. 

Poppy choked on a breath and found that she was crying. 

 

Piers had her work cut out for her. This mishap with the girl had set her back. She could no longer deliver on her promise to the council. She had to find a new way-- but it could wait until after her plan was more stable on the ground. Well, stable, at the very least. The media had been prepped. The council couldn't back out now anyway. In fact, they would have to go along with Piers' plan. Of course, she would need to give them something eventually.

Piers shuffled the papers on her desk, restacking them neatly. The media knew enough to be prepared. The Martian government would be annoyed, but they'd go along with it and pretend they had known the entire time.

Piers would build a midway station. A harmless, even helpful, midway station that would orbit between Mars and Earth, always maintaining a prime distance between the two. It was difficult for shuttle pilots to navigate around the Sun when Earth was at its zenith away from Mars.

It would be so beneficial. A linking tie between Mars and Earth.

So beneficial. 

 

Paulson wasn't sure what he was intending to do. Ever since he had found out Poppy was the Pimpernel-- even now his mind went fuzzy as the thought crossed again--he hadn't done much besides flipping through old case files and staring out at the cityscape beneath his office window. There wasn't much work to keep him busy anyway. In the past, his days had been filled with going through possible suspects, any Martians who crossed into NEO territory with any sort of regularity. He would read each file and search any freely available information about them, their blogs or social media outlets. every second of every day was spent in the pursuit of the Pimpernel. 

But now he knew. He knew and he had never felt more aimless in his life.

 _Poppy was the Pimpernel_. It made so much sense. Did Dr. Boor know? Was that why he had invited Paulson over for dinner? It explained why Poppy had been so insistent on staying with Paulson that first day. She hadn't wanted him to figure her out. He probably wouldn't have for a long while, had she not told him. 

 _She was the Pimpernel_. How could he have not seen that?!

Paulson sat back and stared at his ceiling, standard industrial almost-cardboard-like tiles formed a perfect grid above his head. Look how protective her friends were- a woman leading them? They all cared for her so deeply. Maybe as a sister figure?

Or more?

It was no wonder D'Urso had been so infatuated with her. Poppy, strong and indomitable. Paulson regretted his words thrown at the team. He had misjudged them. It wasn't their fault. 

Poppy had just done exactly as the Pimpernel was expected to act. 

She... she was incredible. 

Was it an infatuation for D'Urso? Paulson wondered. Poppy had said she wasn't dating the Pimpernel. Now, of course, that was a completely ridiculous suggestion. But... D'Urso wasn't the Pimpernel. It would explain D'Urso's possessive attitude toward her. 

Paulson shook his head to clear his thoughts, swinging his chair to face his desktop again. It hardly mattered. He had no place to be worrying about Poppy's possible love life.

He opened up another case file, determined to find Poppy in every single one. He needed to see it. He needed to make the connections that he had been missing for five years. It was like finding all the missing pieces to a hundred different puzzles all at once. He could find Alvin, D'Urso, the little brown one and the other oriental-looking one. Sometimes he couldn't. Sometimes he would look at a picture from a security camera and have no idea what so ever as to who it could be. Paulson breathed a sigh of complete disbelief, mixed with the tiniest bit of awe-

as his door was thrown open violently with a loud  _SLAM_.

Paulson whirled to see a disheveled Piers glaring at him with murder in her eyes. Guards flanked her and the people in the cubicles out on the main floor were peeking up above their walls like merecats. Piers' hair was flying around her face, sticking up at odd angles. Her scarf was askew, almost falling off her neck, and it looked like the heel of her left shoe was broken. Paulson, in all the years he had worked with her, had never been more afraid of his boss as he was in that moment. 

"WHERE IS IT?!" Piers screeched, marching toward Paulson. 

The agent was frozen in fear, trying to convince his legs to stand up. "W-Where's what?!"

" _THE PLANS_." Piers grabbed Paulson by the lapel and hefted him to his feet. Paulson barely had time to register that this petite woman had just lifted him on her own before she was shrieking in his face." _Where are they?!"_

"I don't know!" Paulson said, gulping. "What plans? The downtown facilit-?"

"No!" She pushed him away from her. Either she was running on pure adrenalin or Paulson was just so completely that he couldn't keep his feet because Paulson found himself thrown onto the floor several feet away, barely managing to 

"They've been stolen," Piers muttered to herself as she began to leave the room. "The Pimpernel must be in the building. We need a complete lockdown!" Her voice suddenly amplified to fill the whole floor of NEO HQ. 

 Bars shut suddenly down on Paulson's windows and across the ventilation systems. Paulson's door shut itself and locked automatically. There was a resounding silence as he stared at the grey steel and attempted to comprehend what had just happened. Piers… and then the Pimpernel? Poppy? Had she said Poppy? Was Poppy here? again? Had the team come anyway? Plans?

"Hey, so, have you seen this?"

Paulson jumped again, jerking toward the sound of a familiar voice.

He swore as he met a pair of grinning blue eyes. He scrambled to his feet, pretending to dust himself off to hide the reddening around his ears. He didn't want to ask how she had gotten in. He didn't want to give her that pleasure, knowing that she had once again pulled off the impossible. He didn't want to ask why she was there. He didn't want to jinx the moment. He wanted to play by her rules. "Seen what?"

"These plans-- the ones Piers was screeching about just now?" She held up a file, an actual paper file, as she reclined, propping her feet up on his desktop

"Feet off the furniture," Paulson said with a good-natured grumble. Poppy noticed that Paulson had something like a persistent smile that refused to leave him alone. Her heart felt odd at the thought that perhaps the smile was caused by herself. 

Poppy acquiesced with a grin, removing her feet and handing him the manila folder. "She's keeping them on actual paper-- is NEO going retro?"

"Not that I'm aware of?" he offered, taking the file from her. He flipped through it. Statistics, graphs, and a blueprint of a space station. "What's so curious about them?"

"I don't know," Poppy shrugged, standing up and stretching. Paulson noticed the dust on her black stealth suit.

"Enjoying the ventilation system?" he asked placidly. He continued to read some of the detailed graphs concerning the plausibility of a long-term midway station.

Poppy hummed, glancing out the window distractedly. "I keep snacks between the second and third floors now, feel free to help yourself."

Paulson's brow furrowed as he read. "'…for long-term sustainability and transport between planets?" he read aloud. "What do they mean for transport? Why would we need a midway station?"

"I don't know," Poppy repeated, shrugging. "I haven't heard anything about it before, that's what worries me. Not to mention the sneaking around with things on paper." It wasn't normal. It was secretive and almost unethical. There were only a handful of reasons that Piers would keep things on paper files. One, she was trying to keep it away from the Pimpernel (failed), two, she was trying to keep it away from Martian authorities (soon to be failed), or she wanted them stolen. Poppy hadn't decided on that last one yet.

Paulson handed Poppy the file. "I've never heard of it either, sorry I can't be more help."

Poppy's brows were still puckered as she flipped through the file again, even though Paulson had no doubt that she already had it memorized. The sight made his smile grow more pronounced. He poked the place where her eyebrows were trying to meet. "You alright there?"

Poppy blinked, her expression clearing and a slight smile appearing. "I'm alright." Her voice trailed off uncertainly and her eyes lost focus. "I didn't get a chance to properly thank you the other day."

"I didn't give you the chance," Paulson pointed out.

"All the same," Poppy continued. Paulson watched her expression carefully. She seemed hesitant, worried about more than just the station file. "Thanks."

He continued to watch her without replying for a long moment. She didn't look at him. "What's wrong?" he asked suddenly, making Poppy shift slightly in surprise.

"Hmm? Oh, it's nothing," Poppy said, a modulated smile appearing. "The file's a bit troubling. She'd need Martian approval for it. President Tremblay hasn't had anything on this." 

"You work with President Tremblay?!" 

She laughed, crinkling her eyes. In a manner that Paulson wouldn't mind seeing again. It was... pure. "No, I don't. I just kept tabs on his communications to make sure I never overstepped by boundaries as the Pimpernel." 

He mulled the information over. Had that been why he hadn't been able to meet with the President? Had she been blocking his emails from getting through?

"I didn't stop him from meeting with you," she pointed out, taking a slight step toward him. "That was all on _you_ and your _phenominal_ people skills." She poked his tie to emphasize her point.

Paulson, surprised by the contact, looked at Poppy's face. There was something off. Something... something worried. Poppy looked _worried_. He took her hand gently and held it between both of his own. "But I'm not the one who just got out of a two-week imprisonment," he said gently. "Now will you tell me what's so wrong that you risked recapture to come see me?" Saying those words made him want to smile. She had come to see him. 

Poppy gently removed her hand, glancing away from Paulson. "Piers is going to figure it out," she said after much mental deliberation. "She'll find out that you helped me. You've put yourself in danger."

Paulson hummed, watching her start to pace the length of his office. She had obviously thought a great deal about this. He was pleased to see that whatever facade of apathy or disregard had vanished. "I'm aware of that." A thought arose and he smirked when he thought she wouldn't see. "Is that why you're still here? You were worried about me?"

"I owe you," Poppy corrected, shooting him a look. "Wipe that smirk off your face. You helped me. I can't leave you in harm's way when it's because of me."

"Really?" Paulson asked dryly. "Because I seem to remember a certain time in Austria when--."

Poppy's answering grin did strange things to Paulson's heartbeat. "You brought that on yourself. You shouldn't have followed me."

Paulson didn't answer at first. He was too busy trying to calm his erratic pulse and smiling at her.

Poppy returned to her pacing. Paulson noticed that her boots hardly made a sound on the floor. How had she managed that? He was about to ask her that very thing when he noticed her. He hadn't realized it earlier, but Poppy was clutching the file tightly, her gloved hands making dents on the thin paper. Her shoulders were stiff, her head tilted forward and eyes downcast.

"You're really worried about this, aren't you?" It wasn't really a question. It was a statement.

"Why are you still here?" Poppy asked suddenly, turning to face him from the other side of the room. Her hair seemed frizzier than normal and her stance had gone from unconscious agitation to complete flusterment.

"We're in lockdown," Paulson pointed out, smiling faintly. Did she really think he'd be running to turn her in again? "I can't exactly leave."

"No," she shook her head emphatically, coming back to her original starting point in front of Paulson. "Why are you still here, at NEO?" her eyes implored him. "What are you doing?"

"Y'know, the past five years might have been much easier if we both could've just had conversations like this."

"I'm serious, Shawn," Poppy glared at him with hard blue eyes. There it was again, Poppy putting them on equal terms by using his first name. The other day, in the cell, her eyes had been so red-rimmed… he felt his humor at the situation dispersing.

"It's my life, Poppy," he shrugged, feeling conflicted himself. "This is what I've always done. I can't just quit."

"Are you still trying to capture me then?" she asked, raising an eyebrow and crossing her arms.

His expression softened and Poppy felt her heart melt a little. "No, of course I'm not," he said. "I have to stay here, though." She had to remind herself. This was Shawn Paulson. She... she... 

She couldn't define her feelings anymore. The word  _hate_ didn't belong there. Not beside Paulson's name. Never again. 

"Why?" Poppy asked. It was sincere, not accusatory, and Paulson appreciated that. They both knew he had no family to speak of. His co-workers were his only friends. He barely had hobbies outside of work. There was nothing keeping him there.

"I have to," Paulson repeated gently, but firmly.

"You're not going to give me a reason?" Poppy asked with a hint of annoyance. Why couldn't he just tell her? 

Paulson hesitated a second, considering a lie, but then thought better of it. "No," he said simply. "I'm not."

Poppy threw her hands in the air again, nearly losing a few sheets of paper from the file. They slid halfway out, and she straightened them irritably. "You're impossible," she muttered.

"Me? Or the papers?" Paulson asked.

Poppy's eyes flicked to settle dangerously on Paulson. Her expression clearly said _'I've punched you before. Don't make me do it again.'_ Paulson had no idea if the threat was serious or not, but he intended to stay on Poppy's good side.

She raised a gloved hand and started counting off points. "Option A, you're scared of switching careers." Paulson snorted at that. "Option B, you've got a secret girlfriend I don't know about, which I doubt since I read all your emails and text messages." Paulson balked, opening his mouth to respond, but Poppy was continuing. "Option C, I'm going to slap you."

"You- wait, what?"

Poppy grabbed his tie with her free hand and brought him to her height, glaring at him eye-to-eye with their noses practically touching. "If you think, in some masochistic martyrdom that somehow waiting until Piers captures you and likely has you killed will vindicate you, you've got another thing coming."

Paulson gulped, not wanting to let on that that had been his exact plan. Naturally, he should have known better. Poppy let go of his tie, much to his relief. It was a little too distracting, being that close to Poppy. "I'm not going to let you sacrifice yourself," she said firmly, daring him to argue.

"It's not your choice to make," he said simply, shrugging his shoulders.

"Doesn't stop my team from breaking you out," Poppy countered, matching his airy tone. Paulson gave no response besides stiffening slightly, so Poppy continued. "Have you ever actually been in a NEO prison?"

"Prisoner of War training," Paulson offered lamely. "If that counts."

"No," Poppy shook her head. "NEO prisons are different-- especially if you're in league with the Pimpernel. They'll treat you like a super even if you're not."

"I thought you were--" Paulson blurted before snapping his mouth shut.

" _I_ am," Poppy nodded, her face crumpling slightly as memories flashed across her mind. "Alvin's not," she breathed. "Nor is anyone else on my team."

Paulson found yet another burning bubble of guilt float to the surface. _My fault, my fault, my fault,_ his mind chanted. He could remember times he had overseen the imprisonment of supers or Pimpernel affiliates. 

Poppy continued, staring at the file in her hand again. "The torture is nearly unbearable for me. _For me_." Her fidgety energy from before seemed completely drained. "My team--."

Suddenly, Poppy found herself pulled into a hug, her head resting against Paulson's chest his arms tightly around her. For a frozen moment, she couldn't react. Then, slowly, she wrapped her arms around him too, letting him hold her as his presence chased away the memories of yesteryear. 

"That's why I have to stay," he said, his voice rumbling in her ear. He was glad she couldn't see his face. He didn't want her to see how sorry he felt. She would either believe his misery to be insincere or she'd forgive him. Either way, he couldn't face her. "I've ruined your family's life for long enough and I need to pay my dues."

"Pay them on Mars!" Poppy leaned back slightly, moving her arms from Paulson's back to thump lightly against his chest. "Come with me and _help_ me!"

Paulson smiled down at her and, without thought, kissed her forehead, lingering for only a moment. "I don't think your team-- or the supers you try to save-- would accept that."

Poppy shook her head. "You're being ridiculous," she sighed.

"I'm not," Paulson insisted, "I'm just--."

"And if you give me another self-deprecating line to encourage your own redemption arc, I will throw you out the window," Poppy insisted, glaring daggers at him. 

He raised an eyebrow, giving her a half smile. "Really? You'll throw me out the window?"

Poppy smirked a little, absently fiddling with his tie again before looking up and responding coyly. "Well, if you'd prefer, the vents were going to be plan B."

He had just enough time to look confused and start, "Plan b-?" before Poppy pulled him by his tie again.

"Sorry in advance," she smirked. "Though, really, I'm not." Then she was pressing her lips to his as she kissed him.

Paulson's eyes flew wide and all he could see were Poppy's closed eyes and the soft curve of her cheek. _Poppy was kissing him,_ her lips against his. Slowly, his eyes closed and he endeavored to memorize the feeling of Poppy's lips. He moved one hand from her back to cup the side of her face, stroking her cheekbone with his thumb. She was warm. She might have tasted like dust and metal, but it was _Poppy_ and Paulson couldn't love her more. He felt her let go of his tie. He tightened his arms around her, not willing to let go and silently asking for another moment. Another moment with no war. No fighting. Just her.

Then he gasped as he felt a sharp pain in his arm. He separated his lips from Poppy's gracelessly. He looked at his arm in shock, only to see an empty syringe and Poppy's hands falling to her side. Already, a headache was starting as he glared at her with blurry eyes. "What did you do?!" he tried to sound angry, but the words came as a groan as his vision started began to tunnel.

"It'll just knock you out for a few hours," Poppy's voice sounded like it was coming from the end of a long hallway. "It'll be alright, Shawn."

He felt like the world was tilting. He needed to sit down, but he wasn't sure where his chair was at this point. He tried to keep his balance and ending up listing forward.

Poppy caught him in her arms. The last thing he remembered before blacking out was her pressing her lips to his forehead. "Sleep well."

~* ~* ~* ~* {O} *~ *~ *~ *~

Paulson was speaking before he was fully conscious. "You-are," he swore as he groaned, "the- _worst_."

There was a chuckle that definitely didn't belong to Poppy. Paulson slowly pried his eyes open. He was grateful his headache was gone, but that didn't mean that he felt well. In fact, he felt like he might throw up. Not only was he burning with embarrassment, but he felt like he had just been tossed through a ten story window.

Which he might have.

"I can only imagine," an unfamiliar voice responded. "I'll be sure to tell her when she gets back. She stepped into the back to make a call really quick. She might have borrowed your phone. I _think_ she intends to return it."

Paulson finally looked around. He was lying on the ground in what he assumed to be the cockpit of a Martian-bound shuttle. The Pilot's seat was filled by a heavy-set man with thinning brown hair. He seemed vaguely familiar, but Paulson couldn't put a name to him. He tried to sit up and found his head spun dully for a moment.

They were soaring through space. Paulson could see Mars growing larger in the distance. He sighed dejectedly. He should have known better than to argue with the Pimpernel.

"My name's Jonas," The pilot offered, glancing over his shoulder. He had deep-set eyes and a kind smile. He reminded Paulson of Dr. Boor, with less of the mindless scientist about him. "It's…" he stopped himself and considered his words. He nodded minutely to himself. "It's good to meet you, Agent."

"Are you sure?" Paulson asked dryly. "You seem hesitant."

Jonas again glanced over his shoulder with a knowing smile. "You two are two of a kind," he commented. "But yes, I'm sure. I wouldn't have said so if I didn't mean it."

Paulson ignored the allusion. Perhaps only for the reason that it reminded him of his last moments of consciousness before she had knocked him unconscious.

"She'll be calling her parents. Likely you'll be staying with them until we can get anything else fixed," Jonas tapped some buttons and levers before fully turning his chair to face Paulson who sat now leaning against the back wall of the cockpit. "I assume that's alright with you?"

Paulson shrugged. "I don't know that I really have a choice," he offered exasperatedly.

Jonas gave him a strange look that Paulson didn't fully understand. "Of course you've got a choice. Poppy wouldn't really hold you here against your will. If you wanted to go back, she'd put you on the next shuttle."

Paulson wasn't entirely sure he had been paying attention to the conversation, distracted as he was by the memory of Poppy, but he didn't press his point, instead choosing to sit up and take the co-pilot seat. "You're a part of her team?" Paulson assumed as Jonas turned back to his controls.

"More or less," Jonas shrugged. "I don't do much legwork, but I'm there when they need me. Like today."

"Poppy asked you to come?"

Jonas nodded. "My wife and I were watching the news, waiting to hear from her. She managed to get a message to us."

Paulson hummed, leaning back in the chair and watching the abyss as it passed them until the door behind them opened with a gentle _wush._ Paulson spun in his chair to raise an eyebrow at Poppy and felt his heart skip a beat. 

"He's awake." Jonas offered uselessly.

Poppy held out Paulson's phone to him, grinning cockily. "Good, his snoring was driving me insane."

"That'll be a problem when the two of you get married," Jonas pointed out with a straight face. Paulson balked, staring at the man as he turned to face the agent again. "Have you tried breathing strips?"

"We may just go straight for that breath-rite™ surgery, remember that one commercial?" She grinned at the Pilot who only chortled in response. She turned her attention back to Paulson, stepping close enough to flick his nose. "You sleep alright, Sleeping Beauty?" she asked.

Paulson opened his mouth to retort, but Jonas beat him there. "He said you were the worst as he was coming out of it. What _exactly_ did you do to him?" He grinned knowingly at the Pimpernel.

"A variation on a familiar theme," she said evasively, giving Paulson an inscrutable look. "But really," she asked him, blue eyes raking over his features. "Are you alright, Shawn?"

He shrugged, not sure how much to say in front of Jonas. "I wasn't actually thrown out of a window, was I?"

"It was either that or I drag you through the vents," Poppy shrugged as well. "And we were a bit pressed for time."

Paulson let out a long-suffering sigh. "I guess that's just one more thing I'll need to get used to once we're married." He winked at her. "Occasionally being thrown out of windows." 

Poppy's mouth popped open and a giggle fit overtook her. It shouldn't have. But he had _winked_ at her. As used as she was to flirting with him, this had to be one of the few times he had ever returned the action. It wasn't an altogether unpleasant experience. 

"We're about to enter first descent," Jonas informed them, cutting across Poppy's giggle. He glanced at Poppy. "You may want to return to your seat and buckle in. Paulson can help me with this bit."

Paulson paled suddenly, his smirk fading. 

"You've flown a ship before, haven't you?" Jonas asked. Paulson searched the older man's face, hoping that he'd find a hint that he was joking.

"What?" Paulson squawked. "No- of course I haven't!"

Poppy chuckled behind him. "He's joking, Shawn. Just strap in. The descent can be rough-- especially in the cockpit- they make it comfortable for passengers, not employees." With that, she winked at him and turned heel, heading back into the main compartment. Paulson watched her go with some reluctance. 

"Buckle up, buttercup," Jonas said, a strange grin growing on his face.

Paulson buckled himself in quickly.

 

Poppy saw her parents looking worried and concerned at the shuttle station. She winced. Her parents would be over the moon worried about her until she sat down and told them why exactly she had asked them to make room for Shawn Paulson, (former) Agent of NEO. And why she had been taken into NEO custody 

She turned to Paulson as the two of them exited the platform, for once glad that her height hid her in the crowd. "My parents don't know anything," Poppy explained hurriedly. "Please, don't tell them."

Paulson blinked in confusion. "You're not-- where are you going?"

She hummed noncommittally and watched her parents carefully. Her dad was scanning the crowd, trying to find Poppy somewhere therein. Her mom was standing on tip-toe trying to see over everyone's head. "I need to meet with a few people before making my way back to Andromeda and reporting to my team. You can tell my parents to expect me later tonight." Paulson didn't respond, but Poppy saw her parents recognize him and start to make their way over. "Your luggage is in the claiming area. I think I got most of what you'd need. Let me know if I forgot something and I'll grab it next time." Twenty seconds until impact. She glanced up at him again and winked. "Later, Shawn."

Even following her with his eyes as he was, within ten seconds she had blended into the throng of people at the station.

"Paulson!" Dr. Boor called in an attempt to be heard over the chatter of the crowd.

Paulson soon found the doctor and smiled weakly. "Hello again, Dr. Boor, Mrs. Boor."

"Where's Poppy?" Mrs. Boor asked anxiously. "Isn't she with you?"

"Ah, no," Paulson said, feeling worried. He couldn't just lie to Poppy's parents. "She said she had some… school work? I think? She asked me to tell you that she'd come by later tonight."

The anxiety didn't leave Mrs. Boor's face. Dr. Boor put an arm around his wife's shoulders and tried to smile naturally. "Well, we'll have to cross-examine her then," he said confidently. "Did you bring any luggage?"

 

Poppy ran to the Primary Colony instead of taking the train. She needed to calm down before she faced President Tremblay. She took the westbound tunnel from the Midas colony through the Tertiary Colony and then north toward Primary.

She didn't have a phone, otherwise, she might have given the President a heads-up. As it was, the Pimpernel didn't really have a history of giving people much warning. 

The run was good, healing even. After the past two weeks-- _not to mention kissing Paulson_ \- she needed to clear her head.

She still had a hard time believing she had gone through with it. Her intention had been a fake-out: where she would almost kiss him, then stick him with the syringe and (usually) catch the individual before they hit the ground. 

But no. She had actually kissed Shawn Paulson.

And _he had kissed her back_. Poppy stumbled a step in her jog as she remembered the feeling of his arms around her, his lips on hers. She had already had the syringe in her hand when she had grabbed his tie. The kiss, which wasn't supposed to have happened in the first place, shouldn't have lasted that long. She had almost dropped the syringe. She had let go of his tie to steady her own hand.

Even then, she had been lost. Completely lost in the overwhelming thought of _him_.

It was all sorts of confusing.

She shook the thoughts from her head. She would think about it later. Maybe she'd even call Tina for advice. Tina was the resident boy expert. It wasn't like Poppy could talk to her brother or her team about it. Maybe she could talk to Jonas, but she had tried that before.

_"You need to talk to him."_

_"What? No."_

_"It's the only way you'll be able to feel right, Poppy."_

_"I'd rather watch him burn right now."_

_" No_ ___you don't. You care too much. Even about Paulson. I told you-."_

_"I know what you said," Poppy sighed. "But-."_

_"But nothing. Talk to him." Jonas paused for a long moment. "Look, you can't hate someone without caring about them. At some point or another, Poppy, in some way, you've fallen for Paulson."_

_"No! I mean," She stumbled around her words. "Of course, I wouldn't! He-- No, I--." Her mind began to whirr. Fall? for Paulson? As in fall in love? As in… what? No. No. no. no no. But remembering when she first found out about Katie, going through those old files in Paulson's apartment. Eavesdropping when he thought no one was around. She admired him, sure. She thought he fought amiably. He fought fairly. He kept to the rules. He was kind to those who meant no harm. He never earnestly sought out a fight. He didn't fight for power or egotism. He fought because he felt he had no other way to protect people who couldn't protect themselves._

_"I let down my guard too much. I told you this would explode in our faces."_

Maybe not. Maybe it wouldn't explode. Maybe it hadn't.

There was still a way, but Poppy could see that see was running out of time and options.

 

"Yes, thank you, Sabrina," President Tremblay said to the undersecretary. "Let me know when the Mayor from Suwang Colony arrives."

The young woman nodded and left the comfortable office, shutting the door behind her. President Tremblay turned back to his desk, reading through emails and queries he had received that day with a long-suffering sigh.

Until movement behind the holo-mist made him jump in shock, inhaling sharply.

A young woman, probably early twenties in a black military-grade stealth suit was standing right where the open door had stood before Sabrina closed it. Her blond curls were haphazardly pulled into a short ponytail at the back of her neck, just above the collar of her suit. She moved silently, gracefully to sit down in one of the armchairs across from the President of Mars.

"Poppy Boor," the President recognized her with relief. "It's a pleasure to officially meet you."

The young woman smiled. "You as well, President."

"I heard about the… incident with NEO this past week," the President swept an arm across his desk to hide the datafiles from view so he could give his full attention to the Scarlet Pimpernel. "Is everyone alright?"

Poppy nodded, crossing her legs and folding her arms, the picture of a mature young woman, albeit in a stealth suit. "No one was harmed," she affirmed.

"Good," President Tremblay nodded, his grey streaks on either side of his head glinting in the office lights. "I'm glad to hear it. Despite the radio silence from the Martian government, I would like you to know, off the record, of course, that you have our support."

"I thought so," Poppy smiled brighter. "Tell me, did Vice President Bliss ever mention that Agent Paulson was trying to meet with you?"

President Tremblay tried to a hide a reciprocating smile. "He may have mentioned it, but I believe he was called back to earth before that was able to take form? Pity. I would have liked to have deported him myself."

Poppy laughed airily. "I know the feeling," she agreed. "But things have… changed."

"Changed?" the President repeated, sensing the change in the conversation. "What do you mean?"

"Agent Paulson is back," Poppy said simply. "But not on NEO's orders. On mine."

The President blinked, unable to process this information. "Agent Paulson-- what?"

"The long and short of it is, Mr. President, that there needs to be a press conference announcing his allegiance change before Piers can announce that he was kidnapped by myself."

"He wasn't, right?" The President asked weakly.

Poppy smiled demurely again. "Not… well…" She nodded her head from side to side. Did knocking a man unconscious and throwing him out a window before smuggling him onto a shuttle to another planet constitute as kidnapping? "I wouldn't call it kidnapping. He's willing to stay here. He just wasn't willing to come. It's rather beside the point." She took a deep breath, closing her eyes before opening them and explaining to the President. "He helped me escape from the NEO prison. He wanted to stay behind and turn himself into Piers but I wouldn't allow it."

"So he's… " the President shook his head. This was above his pay grade. "Agent Shawn Paulson? Really?"

"Really truly," Poppy confirmed. "Piers has undoubtedly already noticed his absence. I've made an excuse for about two days to his office, but it won't be enough."

"So… a press conference?" The president asked.

Poppy nodded. "Broadcast on any channels that reach both Earth and Mars. Governor Hill has already said he'd be willing to take Paulson on as a consultant for Earthen affairs and I thought--."

"Governor Hill?" The president repeated, looking mildly affronted. "You offered Agent Paulson to Governor Hill before offering him to me? We can certainly make use of him here."

Poppy blinked in surprise. "I'll admit, President, the thought hadn't even occurred to me. See, Sh- Agent Paulson has already met Governor Hill," she shrugged. "I meant no disrespect."

"No, I know you didn't, Miss Boor," President Tremblay's face was understanding. "I'll send an apology to Governor Hill. Send Agent Paulson here whenever he can be spared and we'll get that press conference set up. I'll announce him myself."

Poppy stood, preparing to exit. "Thank you, President Tremblay," she extended a hand which the President shook. "I'll send him tomorrow morning."

 

All four of them were emotionally exhausted. First, they heard from Jonas saying that Poppy had made contact and asked him to be on a specific flight from Earth to Mars. Second, they had heard from Poppy herself only to confirm that she was alive and that they should hang tight until she got there.

Alvin had claimed the couch, lying there dramatically with one arm draped over his eyes. Tony was against the wall next to his favorite potted plant, staring up at the ceiling emotionlessly. Ed was in the chair, pretending to read while his eyes remained transfixed on one line. Drew was on the ground, drawing circles in the carpet with his finger.

Then the front door opened and the depressed silence was broken by the sound of things being accidentally knocked over, boys tripping over their own feet, and a final "Hey, how's it going?" from their beloved sister and leader. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Whaddya think, hmm? Let me know! :-)


	8. Family

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> PREVIOUSLY: Paulson was 'kidnapped' by the pimpernel and Poppy has returned home at last.  
> CURRENTLY: BOOR FAMILY DYNAMICS YAHOOO. Poppy has to face the music with her family.

Piers was unconcerned with Paulson's absence. He would be back, she had no doubt. She dismissed his hastily written medical excuse from her desk and moved to more important matters.

The file had never been recovered. This meant that someone had knowledge of what she was doing. The work could proceed, of course she had kept backups, but someone out there knew. She may have lost the element of surprise, not to mention she'd now have to pray that whoever had it wouldn't see the plan beneath all her blueprints and proposals.

Piers didn't like dealing with what ifs.

"Ma'am?"

Piers looked up from her desk. An intern from the first floor was leaning her head into the room nervously, holding on the doorframe to balance himself. "What is it?" Piers asked shortly.

"There's a man from McMartin's here for you?" the intern said slowly.

Piers nodded, turning back to her desk disinterestedly. "Thank you, send him in."

"Yes ma'am."

The representative from McMartin's Engineering was an older man, rather heavy set, with gray hair. He wore a plaid shirt with a gray tie. He was an unimpressive specimen, but Piers currently didn't care. She just needed her station built. And soon.

"How long?" Piers asked without preamble.

The man twitched nervously. "Ah, well, you see Ma'am, normally, projects of this magnitude are done over a course of yea--."

"How long?" Piers repeated dangerously.

The man paled. "Uh-- Ah, twelve months…. at best, Ma'am."

"I want it in six."

"But- ma'am! The coding! The materials! We simply don't have--."

"Fine," Piers said, swinging her chair around to face him fully. "Seven months."

Piers could see the discontented resignation in his face. "Yes, ma'am."

"You may go now," Piers waved a hand. "Ah, but one more thing," she added before he had taken two steps toward the door. "I would like to receive weekly updates. Please keep me informed."

The representative looked exhausted from the prospect. "Yes, ma'am. Of course, ma'am."

The door hit him on the way out and Piers returned to her work.

 ~* ~* ~* ~* {O} *~ *~ *~ *~

Poppy fell asleep on Alvin's shoulder that night. She had meant to go back home to her parents but the past two weeks had finally caught up with her. Alvin had carried her to her bed and called their parents, having the unfortunate responsibility to tell their parents that she wouldn't be able to make it to Midas that night.

"She's completely passed out, Mom," Alvin said apologetically, wincing at how fake his voice sounded. "She's fine. Just exhausted. Let her sleep in her own bed tonight."

"Should we come to Andromeda?" Her mom suggested nervously. "I know she's alright, I just need to see her myself.

"You don't have to, I'll come with her tomorrow. She really wanted to come down tonight, I'm sorry."

"He's in the kitchen with your dad right now," his mom said, lowering her voice slightly, "but why did Poppy bring Agent Paulson with her? And since when has Poppy been involved with the Pimpernel? What in the world has been going on at that University, Alvin?"

Alvin winced again. "I don't-I didn't know anything about it myself. B-Wait," Alvin stopped. "What about Paulson?"

"He's here, didn't Poppy mention? He's staying here for a bit. Something about the Pimpernel needing to keep him safe until things between NEO and Mars get sorted out. I don't really know." she sighed again. "How did she get involved in this?"

Alvin glanced at his sister's bedroom door before responding. "I wish I knew, Mom. Poppy's never been secretive like this before." She had brought  _Paulson_ back?  _Why_?

"That's exactly what I was telling your father when we were waiting for them at the shuttle station," his mom said. "I'm glad it's not-- but it was still a shock to see her on the news like that."

"I know," Alvin sighed. He had gotten so many sympathetic calls and notes from classmates and teachers alike in the past two weeks. So many people had asked if he knew who was the pimpernel. It had been nerve wracking to lie to  _literally everyone he knew_.

There was a pause from the other end. "Paulson speaks very highly of Poppy," his mom commented. "If you ask me, he seems smitten. Do you think that's why the Pimpernel brought him back? For Poppy?"

"Smitten?" Alvin repeated, dumbstruck. "With Poppy? What?"

"He keeps looking at her picture like she hung the moon and stars in the sky," there was a smile in her voice. "I may not be an expert, but I'd say he's very much smitten with her. He'll be sorry to hear she's not coming."

"That's weird," Alvin said without thinking.

"It's not weird, dear," him mom said. "It's love and someday I hope you'll look at someone like that."

Alvin smiled. "Someday," he said, looking forward to a long future of bachelorism while still preoccupied with Agent Paulson being at his parents' home once again. 

"Bring Poppy as soon as she wakes up," Mrs. Boor said with a tone of finality. "Take good care of her, Al. I'm worried about the two of you."

"I will, Mom," he promised.

When he hung up on his mom, he went to his own room, determined to get some rest. There was no way he had the brain power to work through everything flying through his mind.

 ~* ~* ~* ~* {O} *~ *~ *~ *~

Poppy woke up to pink light streaming through her window and a comfortable feeling of being home. Even if it felt like she had forgotten something, or put something off, she was still home, away from the chilling of both her isolation at NEO HQ and the windy drafts of her safe house on the outskirts of NEO city.

_Paulson._

She remembered like a bolt of lightning and jumped out of bed. If she ran into Al on her way out, she'd explain to him, but if not she'd call him from the train. She'd have to borrow someone's phone, of course, since she hadn't gotten around to replacing hers yet.

Luckily, there was no need for that as Alvin was in the kitchen making breakfast. Poppy knew she must have scared him pretty bad over the past two weeks to have him make him want to cook her breakfast after a mission.

"Al," she started apologetically, "I've got to go-." he slapped her hand away from the box of poptarts.

"You're not going anywhere until you've had breakfast," Alvin said, daring her to argue. He finished putting some bacon on a plate for her and set it on the counter with a clatter. "Now, sit."

Poppy did her best to look sincerely apologetic. "Al, really, I promised President Tremblay that I'd get Paulson to his-." She snapped her mouth shut, remembering how quickly she had passed out the night before. Her expression shifted from apologetic to guilty. "I forgot to tell you that I brought Paulson back."

Alvin shrugged. "Mom told me last night when I called to tell her that you weren't coming after all."

"But I never told Paulson about meeting with President Tremblay," she said, standing to try and make a hasty escape. Her brother shot her a death glare.

"Give me his number," Alvin said, pulling out his phone.

Poppy hesitated before reciting Paulson's number to him. "But I-."

"Shut up and eat your pancakes, you'll see your boyfriend soon enough."

Poppy opened her mouth to argue back, but Alvin had put his phone to his ear and raised his eyebrows. Poppy shut her mouth.

"That's what I thought," Alvin said smugly.

"This is A-- This is Paulson," Paulson picked up on the fourth ring.

"Hey, Paulson. It's Alvin, Poppy's brother," Alvin said, turning away from Poppy and flipping some more pancakes.

"I know who you are," he said. "Is she alright?"

Alvin paused, thrown off by the tone of concern in the Agent's voice. "Uh…yeah. She's fine. She crashed pretty hard last night. She wanted to let you know that you're supposed to meet with President Tremblay--."

Poppy, unbeknownst to Alvin, had come up behind him and took the phone out of his hand. "Hey, Shawn."

"Hey!" Alvin tried to grab the phone back, but Poppy slipped out of his reach. She stuck her tongue out at her brother.

The volume was loud enough that Alvin could hear the other end of the conversation. "Poppy!" Paulson sounded much more shocked than anything. "I - ah. Um, your brother just--."

Poppy smiled, staring at the white counter top. "I was in the same room, I heard."

"Oh… uh, right."

"I mean," Poppy continued, turning and leaning her back against the counter. Alvin couldn't see her face, but he knew she was smiling. "I would have called you myself if someone hadn't given my phone to the NEO techboys to play with."

Alvin snorted when he heard Paulson start spluttering. "pbblah-- I was-- _I was following procedure_."

Poppy laughed gently but changed the subject. "Al's gonna kill me if I keep his phone for too long," she said, pacing absently as she spoke. "but I wanted to let you know that you're supposed to report to the Primary colony this morning- straight to President Tremblay. He's expecting you."

"What?!"

Poppy sighed dramatically. "Keep up, agent."

"I'm keeping up," Paulson retorted. "I just hadn't thought you had time to go see him, I thought you had gone straight to your brother's."

Poppy hummed dubiously. "Right, Shawn." 

Paulson coughed away from the receiver, Alvin assumed that the agent, like himself, was again thrown off by Poppy's use of his first name. "I assume we'll be setting up a press conference? So Piers doesn't accuse the Pimpernel of kidnapping me?"

"On the nose," Poppy sounded proud. "Go see him as soon as you can. He'll probably want to give you a tour of the offices as well. He's hiring you as a consultant for Earthen affairs."

Paulson hesitated before responding. "And… I'll see you later, right?" Alvin, having finished a plate, was turning around when he almost dropped said plate.  _Was Paulson... flirting_?

"Missing me already?" Poppy grinned. 

"Someone's got to keep you out of trouble." Alvin dropped the fork he was holding with a clatter. He suddenly felt extremely uncomfortable with listening in to his sister's conversation. 

"Weren't you usually the one to get me into trouble?"

Alvin gagged, pancake halfway to his mouth. He shook his head disgustedly. "Alright, if you guys are going to start flirting, I want my phone back."

Poppy laughed. "Alvin wants his phone back," she relayed. "I _will_ see you later," she promised. "I expect a full report on your first day with Tremblay."

"Yes, ma'am," Paulson replied happily. "Thank you for this, Poppy."

 

Poppy hung up the phone and handed it to her brother, returning to her seat and eating her breakfast much more happily than she had before. Alvin found that yet another piece of pancake was falling from his fork back to his plate.

"I don't believe it," he said, putting his plate down.

"Believe what?" Poppy asked innocently.

 _"You!"_ Alvin said with a mildly hysteric note in his voice. "And him!" If he had been expecting Poppy to respond, he was disappointed. Either way, he continued, "I just can't believe it. _You're flirting with him_!"

Poppy leaned back, appraising her brother. "You've told me that before," she pointed out.

Alvin's eyes widened. "Well, yeah," he said incredulously. "I didn't think-- _you were serious_ s?"

Poppy shrugged. "No," she said. "But why are you assuming that things have changed?"

"Well, now he's flirting back and it's weird."

Poppy was surprised by a sudden mixture of feelings rushing in at once and she knew she was blushing. She turned away and pretend to cough into her elbow. Paulson was flirting back? Again? First the wink from the shuttle ride, now this? How was she supposed to feel about that? She hoped she was supposed to be pleased, because that was exactly the word she was looking for.

"Oh my gosh," Alvin said, incredulous. " _You actually like him_."

Poppy coughed again, this time because she had taken a poorly times drink of water.

"No," Poppy said, still choking. "I-I d-."

Alvin hummed, interrupting her. "No, Pops, you're not getting out of it that easily. Aren't you the one who always says that actions speak louder than words?" He leaned against the counter conspiratorially, pushing his plate toward her as well since his appetite had suddenly vanished. "And you're still blushing."

Poppy put a hand self-consciously to her cheek. He was right.

 ~* ~* ~* ~* {O} *~ *~ *~ *~

Poppy endeavored to push Paulson out of her mind. She wasn't an ordinary 20-something woman with an ordinary crush. That didn't happen. That couldn't happen. _This_ couldn't happen. She and Paulson? No. No, that was ridiculous. Sure she had kissed him, but she had kissed the guys on her team for missions before. Fact: kissing makes people around look away. It was a great way to divert attention.

 _But_ , said a sly voice in her head,  _you didn't enjoy those kisses nearly as much_.

Poppy pushed her thoughts away again, focusing on the Martian terrain passing as she and Alvin sat on the magnet train. She watched the bubbles of the colonies across the red soil barely dotted with premature plant growth. Poppy imagined what the planet would look like in fifty, sixty years when the growth would be able to sustain life without the shelter of the Colonies. Poppy would be able to see her grandchildren run in grass on Martian soil.

Unbidden in her mind came the image of an elderly man, her husband, holding her hand and watching several children running on the red ground. Examining the man in her mind showed features that strongly resembled an aged-up Shawn Paulson.

Poppy buried her face in her hands, partially to hid the blush from Alvin's suspicious eyes. Nonetheless, he patted her shoulder comfortingly. "It's alright," he said. "I'm sure Dad will give his blessing."

"Keep in mind that I can throw you through these windows," Poppy grumbled into her hands.

"Ah, but what would your fiancé think then? Murder before the wedding?"

The bell tolled and a mild-mannered voice announced their arrival in the Calypso Cluster. Poppy closed her eyes, trying not to think about all the questions she'd soon be answering from her parents.

Their parents, to no one's surprise, smothered Poppy in a tight cocoon hug the second she opened the front door to their home. " _Poppy_ ," her dad's voice broke. "We were so worried."

"I'm sorry," Poppy said, unsure of what else she should say.

They let her go and ushered her inside toward the couch so they could talk more comfortably. Poppy felt a wave of guilt wash over her forcefully. Signs of worry were written all over their faces. Prominent wrinkles, dark circles, and a sluggish air told Poppy that the past two weeks had been harder on them than it had been on herself.

"Poppy, how did you get mixed up with the Pimpernel?" Her mom asked, touching Poppy's face tenderly. "How long?"

Poppy winced. "A few years now," she admitted softly, embracing her mom again. She tried to avoid Alvin's gaze as well. She couldn't implicate him. He had managed to avoid suspicion this far. She had to protect him. "It's a long story."

"Well, you're not leaving Midas until we get it," her dad said sternly as Poppy released her mom. "Or until we get an explanation for our new houseguest."

"Not that we mind having Paulson here," her mom said quickly. "He's very kind, considerate."

Alvin snorted derisively.

To everyone's surprise, it was Poppy that responded first. "Shut up, Al. He is."

The other three looked at her in blank surprise. Poppy blushed all over again. Had she said that out loud? "Right," she said quickly. "ah, how I met the Pimpernel."

Alvin hummed, leaning forward to cup his chin in a hand. "I don't think so, Pops. There's a better story here." Poppy glared daggers at her brother. "Care to tell us why the Pimpernel dumped Paulson with mom and dad?"

"They're Paulson's only friends here!" Poppy said defensively.

Her parents shared a skeptical look that Poppy had seen enough in her life to feel her defensiveness rising.

"But why not have him stay with us in Andromeda?" Alvin suggested. "He knows you pretty well." He smiled superiorly. "Or maybe the Pimpernel was worried about you being too distracted?"

"I can still throw you out a window," Poppy threatened.

"I'm confused," her dad said, holding up a hand. "Is Poppy seeing the Pimpernel? Or Paulson?"

"The Pimpernel," their mom said.

"Paulson," Alvin said at the same time.

Dr. Boor looked between the two and laughed. "Well, which is it?"

"Neither!" Poppy said, throwing her hands in the air. "I'm not dating either of them!"

"Yet," Alvin said under his breath.

Having a dad with super hearing is a problem on occasion. This was one of those occasions. Poppy groaned and buried her blushing face in her hands. She couldn't believe she was having this conversation. Her brother thought she was dating her ex-nemesis, her parents thought she was dating herself and there she was, still determinedly single.

"So you _are_ seeing Agent Paulson?" her dad asked.

"No!" Poppy said, but then Alvin raised an eyebrow at her. "No." she asserted. "I'm not."

Alvin blew a raspberry at her in disbelief.

Poppy threw a pillow at him. "What are you, twelve?"

" _What are you, twelve_?" Alvin mocked in a sing-song voice, making a face at his sister.

Effortlessly, Poppy picked her brother up and tossed him across the room into the window seat. He might bruise, but he wouldn't be seriously harmed. He burst out laughing while their parents gasped in horror.

"Poppy!" her mom exclaimed.

"What? He's fine!"

 ~* ~* ~* ~* {O} *~ *~ *~ *~

When the sun was lowering in the sky, only moments before sundown, Paulson walked down the street with a bouquet of flowers for Mrs. Boor as a thank you for her hospitality in one hand and his coat in the other. He rubbed his neck tiredly. He hadn't been so worn out from a day of work since… Well, since three days ago when Piers had announced her intention to kill Poppy.

Had that really been only three days ago?

Paulson turned onto the Boor's street, trying to remember which house was theirs. He found it and walked up to the door slowly. He took a deep breath.

Then the door was flung open and a body was thrown through. Paulson felt the thud, heard the flowers and his suit coat fall to the ground. He felt his feet leave the ground, fall down over the stairs. He felt something crack in his back as he hit the ground. The air was expelled from his lungs and all he could do was lie there for a painful milisecond.

Then he gasped air back into his lungs.

He heard a loud curse word as the weight that had thrown him back several feet suddenly scrambled off him.

"Poppy! I think I killed your boyfriend!"

" _Oh my gosh_ ," a voice that Paulson recognized too well at this point. "Shawn! I'm so sorry!"

"I'm fine," he groaned, as arms helped him to sit up. "I'm fine."

"Considering that I just threw my brother at you, I highly doubt that. Can you walk?" Poppy asked, using an arm to lift him slightly.

Paulson groaned as Poppy got him to his feet. "Mmm no," he said, clutching his stomach with his eyes shut tight against the pain. "No, I can't." He half-collapsed onto Poppy's shoulder. Luckily, she had more than enough strength for the two of them.

"Lean on me then," Poppy said apologetically as Paulson hissed between his teeth. "I am _incredibly_ sorry, Shawn."

Poppy got him settled onto the couch, going back out to grab his coat and the flowers, handing both off to her Mom. "Dad!" she called to the kitchen. "Can you grab some ice packs and that spray thing from the med kit?"

"The spray antibiotic?" Her dad clarified from the other room. "Is he cut?"

"No-- the other spray thing. Whatever it was that Mom used to use!"

"That would be the antibiotic. Have you been using that to treat bruising?!"

Her dad leaned around the archway, throwing her a bag of frozen vegetables. Poppy caught it easily. "Shawn, pull up your shirt."

"What?!" he squawked, flinching away from her.

Poppy rolled her eyes, coming next to him. "I need to see where the bruising is the worst. Please, I treat wounds all the time."

"With antibacterial spray!" he pushed her hands away as she tried to pull at his shirt. "No- hey!"

" _Shawn_ ," Poppy said exasperatedly, pinning his arms to his sides. "Mom, will you help me?"

"Hey-Hey!" he tried to wriggle away. Poppy's grip tightened as her Mom lifted Paulson's shirt to reveal an already bruising spot across his stomach. With a quick hand, Poppy leaned him forward, causing him to gasp in pain. Her mom lifted his shirt to see even darker bruising spread across his lower back.

"I don't think anything's broken," her mom said thoughtfully. "But we'll want another ice pack. Alphonse?" Mrs. Boor moved away back to the kitchen.

Before Paulson could lean back, Poppy slipped the peas behind him, again making him hiss in pain. "Sorry," she said, removing her hands altogether. "But I promise it'll help."

"Mmfp," he said, leaning slowly back. "It's alright."

Poppy caught the second ice pack from her Mom. Paulson didn't resist when Poppy pressed it to his skin softly. He gasped and winced. "Sorry." He took it from her hands and applied it himself.

"It's not like these are the first bruises you've ever given me," Paulson sighed as he rested his head against the back of the couch and smirked, his face still scrunched in pain.

Poppy spared him a concerned glance. "Dad! Could you grab some pain meds?"

"Alvin's bringing them in now."

Sure enough, Alvin came in with a cup of water and a couple of pills. "Sorry," Alvin said apologetically. "Poppy and I were playing video games and I cheated."

"That's fine," Paulson said, his voice still taught. He eyed the drugs warily. "I don't think I need those," he said apprehensively.

" _Shawn_ ," Poppy chastised him. "Take the darn medicine."

He rolled his head to look at her, smiling slightly despite the pain. "You see, the last time I was given suspect drugs from a member of your family--."

Poppy made a strange buzzing noise, glaring at Paulson with wide eyes in an effort to make him _stop_.

"Oop," Alvin said, putting the pills in Poppy's outstretched hand and sitting down on the carpet cross-legged like a primary school kid. "That's a story."

Paulson grinned at her, only the slight stress in his face showing his pain that remained. "I'll take the medicine if I get to tell him."

"You're taking the medicine _regardless_." Without warning, she kissed his cheek. Naturally, his mouth opened in surprise and Poppy took the opportunity to toss the pills into his mouth. He swallowed reactively and Alvin winced for him, handing him the water.

"Two for two," Poppy winked at Paulson, scooting a step back from him on the couch.

"You're awful," he said, but he was smiling into his cup of water.

Alvin stared between the two of them, something akin to disgust on his face. "Do I _want_ to know?"

Paulson raised an eyebrow at Alvin. "So Poppy never told you how she got me to the shuttle?"

"Actually-," Poppy tried to interrupt, but Alvin hushed her.

"She didn't tell any of us you _came_ ," Alvin corrected. "I didn't know until I called Mom last night."

He smirked at Poppy and she shifted uncomfortably. "Look," she started, "It just never… I didn't… I might have just left a few things out."

"A few things?" Paulson repeated. "Did you even tell them that I was the one who got you out?"

"What?" Alvin's face was a perfect mask of disbelief.

Poppy's face scrunched in concentration. "No, I'm pretty sure I mentioned that one, Al."

"You barely said five words before you passed out," Alvin pointed out. "And none of them were about Paulson."

"The first day back from a mission is generally the worst," Poppy explained in response to Paulson's concerned expression. "And I tend to sleep a lot."

"I can imagine," Paulson said, not looking away from her. "Are you alright now?"

Poppy laughed. "You don't need to look so concerned. I'm fine, I did just throw my brother about twenty feet."

"Fair point," Paulson allowed. He shifted the ice pack on his middle slightly. "So are you going to tell him or shall I?"

Poppy's face blushed lightly and she found that words had failed even her own mind.

"You'd better," Alvin said, watching his sister in surprise. "I don't think Poppy can."

"Cat got your tongue, Ms. Boor?" Paulson asked in a tone of mock-civility. Poppy opened her mouth to reply hotly, but then Paulson winked at her and her entire face turned a deep rose.

Alvin swore softly, observing the change in color. "You broke her!"

"Interesting," Paulson noted. He turned back to Alvin and began recounting the story from Piers telling him that the paperwork for Poppy's execution was already being filed.

"I was furious, as you can imagine. I had assumed D'Urso would have rescued--."

"D'Urso?" Alvin repeated, grinning. "You thought Tony was the pimpernel?"

"He was under the impression that Tony was in love with me," Poppy said dryly, folding her arms. "Thus, Tony was the Pimpernel."

"I had other reasons!" Paulson said defensively.

"But you realize that he _is_ , right?" Alvin blurted out before he could stop himself.

Poppy stared at her brother blankly and Paulson watched apprehensively between the two of them. "What?" she said.

Alvin made a face. "Uh. Nothing."

Poppy let it pass. It probably wasn't what she was assuming anyway. That'd be ridiculous.

"Anyway," Paulson cleared his throat awkwardly, feeling sorry for D'Urso. He hadn't realized that Poppy _wouldn't_ recognize the other man's feelings. "I tried to argue the point with Piers, but she wasn't having any of it. I spend most of the night trying to think of a way that I could have the paperwork repealed or removed. Heck," he laughed shallowly at himself, "I even tried to see if I could find it in the system and delete it, but I've never been much of a hacker." He sighed. "I must have fallen asleep at my desk at one point, but I woke up around three and decided that I would just go see if you were awake," he glanced at Poppy.

"Naturally, I was," Poppy said flatly. "I hadn't slept for about a week."

"I know."

"And you broke her out?" Alvin asked.

Paulson hummed, glancing at Poppy. They both knew the main point missing from the story was Paulson's discovery of her being the Pimpernel. "Well, after I discovered that D'Urso wasn't the pimpernel and that he wasn't coming for Poppy, it seemed the only choice to save her."

"How'd you--?" Alvin's eyes widened and his jaw dropped. " _You know_." The words hung there softly. It hadn't occurred to him before then, but it made sense. He looked at Poppy for recognition.

Poppy nodded, glancing toward the kitchen where she knew her parents were listening carefully. "I told him."

Alvin swore again, scratching the top of his head and giving a low whistle. "Wow."

"Problem being," Poppy continued. "He helped me escape, but he didn't get himself out. The Pimpernel and I both knew that it was only a matter of time before Piers found him out, so I went back for him."

"And that's it?" Alvin said, looking confusedly disappointed. "I thought there'd be more flirting, to be honest."

"There was," Paulson responded before Poppy could say anything. He smiled at her again. "But I guess Poppy wants to keep it between the two of us?"

Poppy spluttered. "Don't put it like that! It wasn't-- I-- _It was an accident_."

"Seemed fairly purposeful to me," Paulson retorted.

"What happened?" Alvin said, tired of being out of the loop.

Blushing profusely, Poppy confessed. "I kissed him. The _plan_ had been a fake out as a distraction for anesthesia," she said hurriedly over Alvin's laughter. " _He was being stubborn_!"

"So you kissed him… and then knocked him unconscious?" Alvin repeated, still laughing too hard to be completely coherent.

"And then threw me out a ten story window," Paulson added, giving Poppy a meaningful glare.

" _There was a harness_. You weren't actually _thrown_."

Alvin swore again.

" _Alvin_ ," their dad said from the kitchen. "Language."

Alvin jumped to his feet angrily, marching to the kitchen as he ranted. "Alright, so Poppy throws her boyfriend out a window and I get chewed out for cussing?"

"Dinner will be ready in just a minute," Mrs. Boor called from the kitchen, "Poppy, could you help Paulson come to the table?"

"Sure!" She turned to Paulson. "We can do full princess carry or I can be a crutch, which would you prefer?"

"I can walk," he said, despite wincing as he stood slowly and gathered the ice packs. "Mmph," he stumbled. "At least I hope so."

"Just lean on my shoulder," Poppy instructed, standing beside him and helping him toward the back of the house. He obeyed without complaint and made it to the table without incident.

 ~* ~* ~* ~* {O} *~ *~ *~ *~

Throughout dinner, Paulson couldn't even begin to describe his discomfort. Not that he was really uncomfortable. The Boors were kind, _incredibly_ kind considering everything. Alvin kept the mood from getting too serious, for which Paulson found himself grateful. He endeavored to pay attention to the conversation, but he kept stealing glances at Poppy that he knew were not going unnoticed by her parents.

"Paulson?" Mrs. Boor repeated for the third time.

Paulson hadn't realized he had been staring off at Poppy dazedly. He felt his face color. "I'm sorry, what?"

"I was just asking," Dr. Boor said, looking suspiciously between Paulson and his daughter, "How meeting with Tremblay went. I've never met him myself."

Paulson momentarily choked on a piece of bread when he caught Poppy's interested look. "Oh, ah," he coughed into his elbow awkwardly, making his stomach ache all over again from his bruises. "It was good. Yes, he uh--" Could she _not_ look at him like that? "He introduced me to the heads of staff and such. It was… good."

"You already said that bit, Agent," Poppy pointed out.

"Were you able to get in touch with the Pimpernel?" Mrs. Boor asked, changing the subject. "I know you were saying you thought he might have lost his phone on the way to Mars?"

Poppy grinned broadly, becoming suddenly absorbed in her mashed potatoes. Paulson felt a blush spread along his neck.

"Yes, I was able to get in contact with him," Paulson said stiffly. "It's alright."

"Did he say anything about meeting?" Poppy asked, still smiling at her potatoes. "I haven't heard anything yet."

Paulson choked on bread again. "N-No," he said slowly. "I haven't heard anything either."

"Unfortunate," Poppy said, leaning back slightly to look at Paulson with a smirk.

"So, Pops," Alvin said, not wanting to lose his place in the conversation. "Since you've worked with the Pimpernel for a while, does that mean you've punched Paulson before?"

Their parents looked appalled.

Poppy winked at Paulson. "Loads of times. I gave him a black eye before they put me into the NEO HQ."

"You didn't," her dad said.

" _Poppy_!" her mom gasped.

 

"You must have some pretty cool stories about working with the Pimpernel," Alvin smirked over the top of his cup. "Care to share, Pops?

Poppy pretended to think about it. She saw the horrified looks on her mother's face and knew that most of her stories were certainly not dinner-table appropriate. She might be able to tell her dad later, but her mom would lose sleep if she knew exactly what Poppy had been up to for the past five years. "Nope," Poppy said, sneakily flicking a pea at her brother. "Can't think of a one."

"I know one," Paulson leaned forward. Poppy felt her stomach drop and she started praying that he would think before he spoke. "It was probably two years ago-- Argentina." He looked at Poppy for recognition, but she had none to give. Two years ago she had been in an out of the former Southern American Continent that she wouldn't be able to pinpoint any specific occurrence. "I had tracked the Pimpernel to a hotel in the outskirts of Buenos Aires. We locked it down, essentially intending to smoke the Pimpernel out-- without actual smoke, of course." This is added in response to Mrs. Boor's small gasp.

"But as it was," Paulson continued hastily, "There was a little seven-year-old girl who had gotten separated from her parents. When NEO agents swarmed the building, she had started crying and screaming. Agents tried to calm her and find her parents. _I_ even tried." he laughed at himself. Poppy, starting to remember the instance, chuckled too. "I was trying to reason with her when a young woman," Paulson gestured to Poppy with a hand. "Came up and _slapped me across the face_."

Poppy laughed, remembering Paulson's shocked expression. "You were trying to tell her that the statistical probability that her parents had left her there on purpose was less than fifteen percent!"

Paulson chuckled. "Anyway, the young woman took the child in her arms and marched straight past the guards, reuniting the little girl with her family outside the barricade."

"I remember that," Poppy said fondly. "That was the Sanchez family. We keep in touch still."

"That's sweet," Mrs. Boor said, clearly relieved that Poppy hadn't been in too much danger.

"It is," her husband agreed. "Tell me, when did the two of you first meet?"

Poppy and Paulson deadpanned at each other at the same time, making Alvin snort into his water. "It's a bit of a long story," Poppy said evasively. "And Paulson doesn't actually remember it."

"I do!" Paulson said defensively.

"Please," Poppy rolled her eyes. "You only remember because I told you."

Paulson had the good sense to look unrepentantly shameless. "So? I still remember it."

"Actually," Poppy said, turning back to her parents, "I met Paulson before I met the Pimpernel."

"What?" Al asked, looking sincerely surprised.

Poppy nodded. "I met Paulson on a school trip to NEO city my first semester at AU. He was, at the time, apprehending supers."

"Poppy," Dr. Boor said worriedly. "You didn't--."

"She didn't," Paulson lied for her. "At least, nothing worthy of indictment."

Poppy felt guilty. She opened her mouth to respond but found Paulson's hand on top of hers under the table. It was a gesture that said ' _this is for the best_ '.

Poppy kept his hand with her, only hoping that her parents wouldn't notice. Or, if they did, that they'd keep the teasing to a minimum.

"Pops, why don't you give Paulson a proper tour of Midas after dinner?" her mom suggested.

 _They noticed_ , Poppy realized with an internal sigh.

"Or," Alvin suggested. "You can both help me do the dishes."

"A walk sounds great," Poppy said quickly. "Shawn, are you up for a walk?"

"I'll manage," he agreed quickly.

 ~* ~* ~* ~* {O} *~ *~ *~ *~

Before her parents could bring it up again, Poppy stole Paulson away to the indigo streets of Midas. They started walking in no particular direction. They walked past the identical looking houses and got into the business district of Midas, walking passed closing stores and other Martians on their way home after a long day. Some people recognized Poppy and waved at her cheerily. She returned the gestures with a polite smile.

As soon as Poppy found the Midas Park, she found the closest empty bench and claimed it for the two of them. "We don't want to push your endurance too much," Poppy explained, helping him to sit beside her.

He winced but sat gratefully. "I like Mars," he said after a pause. "It's quiet."

"Much quieter than NEO city," Poppy agreed.

"You grew up here?" Paulson asked, looking up at the dome that reflected streetlights between the stars.

Poppy hummed in affirmation. "This is where Mom and Dad settled when they left Earth. Alvin was probably three or four, I couldn't have been more than a few months old."

"When did your parents find out you were a super?" Paulson asked, turning to watch her as she watched the sky. "Did your father know about the hereditary factor before then?"

She laughed, remembering. "No. I was the first case observed, but there are others. I helped the others cope in school when I was younger."

"Cope?" Paulson repeated, smiling in response to her laugh. "How do you mean?"

Poppy hummed. "Well, we all heard the news from Earth. We knew what it meant to be a super. We were dangerous. A lot of super kids throwing super tantrums? As the oldest of the generation, my dad asked me to help them."

Paulson imagined it for a moment, a young Poppy trying to calm down a terrified child with super strength. "That couldn't have been easy."

Poppy shrugged. "I didn't really do much. Obviously, the kids would have at least one super parent who could help if things got too out of hand, but… I guess I was just lucky that my dad had been so personally involved in the whole thing. I knew more about what fear that Earthlings had for supers."

"What's it like to be a super?" Paulson asked. This was yet another statement he'd never thought he'd be entertaining. "It seems… frightening."

Poppy shrugged, glancing at him quickly before glancing back away. "I've never known anything different, but when I was younger I had a harder time modulating my strength. I had to keep a couple extra packs of writing styluses for class with me because I kept breaking them."

"You did?" Paulson chuckled.

Poppy laughed. "Worse yet, in third grade, we did a play and I was assigned to help with the props." She shook her head. "I thought it was so boring. I figured, what's the best way to liven up a stage production?" She met Paulson's gaze. "Fireworks."

"No," Paulson laughed. "Did you really?"

"I did!" Poppy admitted. "I nearly destroyed the school. We have it all recorded. My dad's laugh in the background is probably the best part."

A broad grin spread across Paulson's face. "I'm asking your parents to show me that tonight," he said decisively.

Poppy felt her face blush. "Eh," she coughed. " You know, on second thought, I think those recordings might have mysteriously vanished. We don't have them."

He hummed dubiously. "I might need to ask your parents, just to be sure." He pulled out his phone to send a message to Dr. Boor, raising his hand out of Poppy's reach just in time. "Hey- not so fast, Ms. Boor!" he laughed.

Poppy scrambled over the bench, trying to grab the phone away from him. "Don’t you dare, Shawn!" But she was laughing.

She saw him wince instead of responding and realized that she was practically in his lap and the bruised portion of his back was being pressed into the back of the bench. She had one hand on his shoulder and the other reaching for the phone. They were practically nose to nose.

She only had time to register the smirk before he was kissing her, wrapping his arms around her waist.

Her mind went blank and she couldn't tell what she was feeling in that moment.

As quickly as it had begun, it was over, and Paulson had returned Poppy to her seat with a wink. "Two to one, Poppy," he said, still leaning close.

Poppy wanted to make a remark, but her mind was still static. "You're the worst," she finally managed.

He hummed. "That sounds oddly familiar."

Poppy's mind flew back to what Jonas had said on the shuttle. Getting her blush under control, she grinned. "I can't imagine."

 

Eventually, they made their way back to the house, talking about whatever came to mind: previous missions, a few old grievances, and definitely not about their growing feelings for each other. They didn't touch, Paulson was able to stand on his own now. Their hands brushed periodically, but neither made the first move. Even in the darkness, barely illuminated by the flickering lamplights, Poppy could tell that both she and Paulson were blushing slightly.

Which was absolutely ridiculous. They were grown adults, they'd known each other for years, and they should be able to talk about things like this. They'd already gotten the hard part over with, the whole ' _yeah I've punched you before_ ' thing was already worked through. How much worse could the rest of the conversation be?

And why in the name of sanity did she feel so awkward and hesitant?!

"Hey guys," Alvin called once Poppy and Paulson were passed the threshold. "I found that video you were looking for."

"Video?" Poppy looked at Paulson sharply.

Paulson made an innocent face. "I can't imagine how he knew."

The two headed to the back room where Alvin and Dr. Boor were setting up the holovid system. Poppy sat on the couch and motioned for Paulson to join her. Which he did, after only a moment of hesitation.

"Looks like we're all set up," he said, pointing to a hovering thumbnail icon of the dreaded video. "Who wants to see Poppy blow up the auditorium?"

Poppy wished it had just been the auditorium video. It seemed like her parents had been saving all these recordings for just this circumstance. Poppy burned with embarrassment as they showed recording after recording from her childhood. Her science fair projects, her cringe-worthy violin recitals, dance recitals, academic competitions where she absolutely slaughtered the competition. Paulson laughed or cheered at every video, making her smile brightly.

After a while, Poppy's parents excused themselves to go to bed, asking if Poppy and Alvin intended to stay the night. They both had to decline, a little reluctantly on Poppy's part.

"I'll see you tomorrow at the press conference," Poppy promised as Paulson helped walk them out with her parents. "I'll be backstage, keep an eye out." She added with a wink.

"Tomorrow, then," Paulson nodded, smiling.

He watched her say goodbye to her parents. He didn't notice Alvin come up beside him until he felt someone punch his arm. "I still don't like you," Alvin said in a lowered tone. Paulson looked at him in surprise, a sinking feeling in his stomach. "But you make her happy. Hurt her, and you'll find the entire team happy to turn you over to Piers."

Paulson's throat was suddenly dry. "I-I'll keep that in mind," he replied.

"See that you do," Alvin smiled without humor. "Later, Paulson."

Paulson watched Alvin walk over to Poppy and say a final goodbye to their parents. Poppy gave him a half-hearted wave in farewell. Paulson returned the gesture half a second too late for her to see. 

But he'd see her tomorrow. And that was enough. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading!


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